Phoenix~!
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Dailies~
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July 1, 2022 (Daily 1)
Daily 7/1/2022 (First daily SWC)

Hello hello hello~! My name is Phoenix, and I'm a small coder/artist/musician on this kitty cat website. My pronouns are she/her only please~, and I'm a teenager who lives in the Mountain Time Timezone! My hobbies include drawing, reading, playing piano/viola/guitar, and writing stories! The main story I'm working on right now is called Fates Crossing, and it's actually a story told in a game~, what I'll be writing during SWC this session will be the first game's script ~~which I've been procrastinating since March~~. I am of the AMAZING Sci-fi cabin and we will beat you all and shove your leaders down the massive vortex in our basement so you are left alone /hj. Another little thing to know about me is that I am also doing Artfight this July, therefore it'll be hard for me to be very active, but I'll try my best. I'm on team Wither there, and we are going to crush Bloom just saying like honestly wither > bloom.
I have participated in SWC before, but I've never been active for a whole session- ;;. This session, I'm going to attempt to change that! (even though I say that every time- lol), and I'm going to trying to hit my word goal as well. I’m also taking online classes this Summer because I’m an idiot, and that’s turning out to be- a lot more work than expected-. I recently finished drivers Ed, and I’m getting my permit in two weeks if that helps you try and figure out just how old I am ;). You may have noticed above that I play three instruments. I’ve played piano for almost 11 years, guitar for about 6 months, and viola for over five years. I run track and field on my school’s team, and my events include hurdles, sprinting, and jumps (Long and triple, I can’t do high. It scary ;-;). I do want to try out pole vault this year- but after last year- I don’t know yet lol.
I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and you probably know me as a “Mormon”. Some of my favorite youtubers include Mark Rober, Mr. Beast, …Technoblade ;-;, and many others. If you have not watched the series “Arcane” on Netflix, I highly recommend it, it’s my favorite show, with ducktales close behind. I mentioned that I like to do art earlier, and my style is basically anime (I will achieve semi-realism. Eventually. Probably. Hopefully-). I hate playing classical music, and I love being able to play with the band in orchestra. Seriously, orchestra alone is cool, band alone is loud, but if you put both of them together, you get pure awesome. Some very random things is that right now I have COVID and I’m forced to quarantine for five days, my brothers won’t stop screaming as I’m typing this, and my mom has walked by 3 times where I had to close the tab because I’m supposed to be doing my health class right now. Adios!

(508 words~!)

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Daily 2, July 2, 2022
"Will I be sacrificed to the sci-fi vortex? Signs point to yes.
oh boi


Start:

I gasped, looking around as the faces around me, familiar faces, faces that I thought I was friends with, laughed and mocked me. The lighting was dim, perfect for the sci-fi headquarters. Like everyone else, I had been doing my part to save Sana. I earned my cryptos through- probably legal work, and became close to my fellow hackers. I trained with one of the leaders, Mech, and he complimented me on my work regularly.
As I stumbled backwards, frantically searching for a way out, my mind flashed back to the first day of training at the sci-fi headquarters, just a few days after Alyelle had rounded up a team to save Sana from the government. Me and a few others were walking down to the basement to find a quiet place to study, when suddenly we almost fell into a huge hole. Looking up, we saw Alyelle and Kenna holding their hands to a- random person’s back? Looking more closely, I had realized with shock that it was an honorary helper. As Alyelle and Kenna pushed the poor victim in, I watched helplessly, my mouth open in horror.
Funnily enough, after a few days of this same process continuing, me and the other hackers stopped dreading it, even- looking forward to it? I’m not sure why, but there was something satisfying about the honoraries who would never be like us being sent down to what we presumed to be their doom.
It appears it had become my turn to face the same suffering. I didn’t ever consider that a hacker in the company might be sacrificed, but I should have known.

As my “partners in crime” kept pushing me closer and closer towards the pit, I looked around for my options. The leaders of the hacking ring stood off to the side, watching me with no expression. The hackers gave me one final push, right on the edge of the vortex.

“PHOENIX! You have been realized as guilty! You have been revealed as a government spy that is giving the traitorous government information on our efforts to find Sana! Because of this, you have been sentenced to be sacrificed to the vortex, sparing one of our honoraries for the day.” All four in turn shouted.

I frantically looked around. “YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO JUMP, OR WE WILL PUSH YOU IN OURSELVES” A leader shouted.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a small tunnel. It was about 9 feet away, to the left, and on the side of the vortex. I’d have to jump over the vortex in order to get away.
“10”
I held my breath.
“9”
I fixed my feet into a starting position.
“8”
I gradually moved my hands upwards.
“7”
I braced myself.
“6”
I shut my mouth, concentrating on the task before me.
“5”
I closed my eyes.
“4”
I opened my eyes.
“3”
I took what could possibly be my final breath.
“2”
I quickly said goodbye to everyone I ever cared about in my head.
“1”
…
I jumped.
And then landed on the other side-
The hackers stared at me in shock, but the leaders applauded.
“Well done. This was just a test. If you had failed, you would have fallen to the vortex. The goal was for you to either wait out the ten seconds, which most people do, but you did something else. You took the leap. We need people like that here at the hacking ring. I’m sure you’ll be a great asset in helping us to save Sana.” Zai said, over the silence.
Kenna held out their hand for me, pulling me up onto the platform.
“Welcome, to the Sci-Fi Hacking ring!” Alyelle told me, and smiled.

The end lol (625 words)

Daily 7/5/2022
“Actions speak louder than words.”
It was rather dreary outside today. Me and my friends laughed around outside, waiting for the lunch period to be over. It was still morning, and the clouds heading our way promised a severe thunderstorm. I hoped it would be English when it hit, my teacher always put on a movie during a storm, no matter what we were supposed to do that day. Sitting right down, leaning across the side of my high school, was a young girl, probably a freshman. Her wavy brown hair covered her eyes, and her head was bent down. Her legs were pulled up against her chest, and her arms were crossed. She appeared to be…crying-? A group of boys walked past her. One particularly annoying one, that I recognized from Spanish class, started mocking the girl, and his friends came up and kicked water at her using the puddles nearby. A few of the boys seemed uncomfortable, and didn’t engage. My group hadn’t noticed the girl yet. The freshman lifted her head, watching as the boys continued to tease her, and burrowed it right back down, hidden in her arms. Her glasses fell down, and the lead boy from Spanish picked it up. My group had now noticed what was going on, as well as many other people. Nobody was doing anything about it though.
“That poor girl, I wish I could help her.” One of my friends said.
“Why don’t you?” I replied.
“Well- I don’t want to end up being the subject of their teasing” She responded, averting her eyes from my gaze.
I sighed. Walking over towards the group of boys, I clenched my fists, folded my arms, swept my hair back so they could see my eyes, and stood as confidently as I could infront of them. I grabbed the glasses right from the boy’s hand, and he yelped in shock. Glancing at me, he mumbled “It was all just a bit of fun.”, and him and his friends took off. I tapped the girl’s left shoulder. Looking up at me, I could tell she had been crying. I offered her glasses, and she carefully took them and placed them back on her nose. I held out my hand, and she took it. We walked over to my group, where everyone immediately accepted the girl. To this day, she remains one of my closest friends.
(Not based on a true story, 396 words)


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Weeklies~

Main Cabin Daily 1

Hi everybody. My name is Sail. I love writing and reading. I'm currently reading the harry potter series and I'm on book two. I love acting and will be partaking in a musical this summer, possibly two. I've been acting since I was 8. I was in my schools musical this year as well. I do photography, sewing and go camping a lot. I just went on a road trip with my aunt, uncle, and my two cousins. We got to go swimming a lot and I got to go to Colorado. When we entered Colorado we made it to a giant star stare. I got a certificate for observing 21 things in the sky, like globular cluster, nebulas, galaxy's, an asteroid, and more. I want to start doing more with astronomy.

Bunni's SWC Stuff

Dailies

July 1st:
Why hello there! You can call me Bunni, and I go by she/her pronouns. My personality type is isfj-t. This is my third SWC session so far and I'm in the wonderful hi-fi cabin woooo. Aside from writing, I also love music. I have been playing the piano for about four years now and my favorite genre is classical music! Some of my favorite pieces include Winter, from the Four Seasons, by Antonio Vivaldi and Chopin's Etude in A-flat major, Op. 25, No. 1. This past year, I have picked up the oboe and I play in my school's orchestra.
I am also a big Marvel fan. Some of the best movies, in my opinion, are Avengers: Endgame, Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, Black Widow, and Thor: Ragnarok.
I am also an avid reader! Currently, I am into historical fiction, especially books about WWII. Coincidentally, I also ended up in the hi-fi cabin. A recent favorite of mine is The Book Thief, which I highly recommend. I am not a big fan of most sports. However, I do enjoy golfing and going on runs. Lastly, I am a food enthusiast! I like baking, cooking, and trying new foods!
Anyways, that's all for this about me. I look forward to an amazing SWC session, and maybe I'll see you around! #HI-FIFTW!!!
+224 words
July 2nd:
Prompt: Does my character like ice cream?
Answer: It is decidedly so

Outside the front gates, Bella waits excitedly. A crowd has already gathered, murmuring excitedly. Today is the opening day of the “Magic Ice Cream Park. Normally, Bella doesn’t like amusement parks; she finds them quite childish and boring. However, this is not any theme park. This is one dedicated to ice cream, and only ice cream. And, being the ice cream enthusiast she is, Bella knew she had to come.
After forty minutes of waiting, Bella finally makes her way to the front of the line. As she passes through the gates, her eyes fall upon a giant ice cream statue in the center—the biggest model she’s ever seen. The ice cream is meant to resemble a strawberry, vanilla, and chocolate cone. As Bella peers closer, she realizes that the giant ice cream cone is actually a gift shop. There is already a line outside, so Bella makes a mental reminder to come back later. Bella continues walking down a road, with shops on either side. Most of them are ice cream related. The posters on the windows reveal that every ice cream shop sells different flavors. The flavors range from uncommon, like jelly donut, to classics, like cookies and cream. Bella makes her way over to one shop, which displays an ice cream maker churning ice cream at the window. Inside, she detects hints of lavender and earl grey tea. It smells amazing. She samples the honey lavender flavor. The floral hints of the lavender balance perfectly with the sweetness of the honey. She decides to order a scoop. The cool, smooth ice cream melts on her tongue. As the flavors bloom in her mouth, her heart is filled with content. Nothing brings her greater joy than a good scoop of ice cream.
Bella has to restrain herself from ordering more ice cream. Instead, she makes her way over to the rides. One of them is a roller coaster. The coaster cars are meant to resemble ice cream cones. Looks interesting, she thinks. Might as well give it a try. On the ride, the wind gushes past her face, and her hair whips in every direction. She lets out a whoop of delight. As Bella gets off the ride, she finds herself grinning. So far, she is having a good time.
After a quick lunch at the hot dog cart, Bella makes her way back to the street with shops. There is a special exhibition going on in one of the shops. One of the confectioners is demonstrating how to make ice cream using the old fashioned churning method. Bella sits through the entire thing, eyes glued in fascination. Afterwards, people are handed samples of the ice cream. Again, it tastes fantastic.
Bella explores some of the other stores, including a homemade waffle cone place and an ice cream sandwich shop. On her way out, she stops at the ice cream gift store. The interior is cone shaped, with a tall, pointed ceiling. She is immediately drawn to a shirt with a cute ice cream graphic. She also spots an ice cream plush and a mini backpack.
As Bella leaves the park, she makes a mental note to come back. After all, she does love ice cream.
+538 words

July 4th
Vague dialogue
“It’s so beautiful,” she murmured.
“Yeah I guess," the boy responded.
“You know what I really love about it?”
“What?” he asked inquisitively.
“The fact that it mixes and blends together. I just can’t take my eyes off it.”
“Okay, okay, enough staring. Let’s go do something else.”
“Fine, just a little longer.”
“Time is up! Let’s go now.”
“Geez, why are you in such a hurry to go?”
He shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe go do something else?”
“Will you at least tell me where you’re going?”
“See that little place over there? I was thinking we could go check it out.”
They continue walking in silence.
“Are we almost there yet?” the girl interrupts.
“Almost, just keep walking straight.”
“Oh, I see it.”
“Yep, that’s it.”
“What is that blue thing sticking out?”
“It’s just a little imperfection. Nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t see why this place is so great. The other one was better.”
“That’s not true! Look at all this charm! How can that possibly top this?”
“Remember all of those pink stuff at that other place? Now, that is truly dazzling.”
“Ugh, you wish. Let’s just keep going.”
“I’d like to see you prove me wrong.”
“Oh I will,” he grinned.
“So, where to next”
“Keep walking left and we’ll get there.”
“This?”
“Yes! Isn’t it great!”
She examined it closely. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Aw, admit it. This place is way better than the one with the pink.”
“Well, I don’t know about that.”
“Look at all this! What’s not to love about it!” He looked expectantly at her.
“Fine,” she said in submission. “I guess it is good.”
He beamed triumphantly.
+274 words

Ambiguity
“Hey! Alex!” she exclaimed. It was his friend, Jessica.
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
“What, am I not allowed to be here?” she asked.
“Wait, what do you mean?” Alex asked, confused.
“You made it sound like I wasn’t allowed to be here,” Jessica said.
“Oh! No! I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, realizing his mistake. “I was just wondering why you decided to come here.”
Now, Alex was embarrassed. Changing the subject, he asked, “So, are you excited to go to the amusement park on Saturday?”
“Yes! David will be there too, right?” she asked.
“Yep! We’ll all have an amazing time."
“Speaking of David, have you seen him lately?” Jessica asked.
“No, not recently. The last time I saw him, David was in the car with his dad. He was driving to school.”
“Who was driving? David or his dad?” Jessica asked.
“Oh my gosh I did it again,” Alex said, as realization dawned on him.
Jessica smirked. “Yes, yes you did.”
Alex groaned. “Don’t make it worse or I’m gonna lose it.”
“Lose what?” Jessica teased.
“Hey! You know what I mean!” Alex cried.
“Anyways, back to the amusement park,” Jessica said. She still had a smug look on her face. “Have you finally worked up the courage to go on the roller coaster with me?”
Alex grinned. “You bet. I won’t be a chicken this time.”
Jessica snickered. It took Alex three seconds before he realized his mistake—the third one he’d made so far. At this point, Jessica was flat out laughing.
“Okay, Jess,” he muttered. “You don’t have to rub it in.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she teased. “I didn’t know you were an animal.”
Alex sighed in exasperation. “Were you always this annoying?”
+292 words

July 5th:
The pen is mightier than the sword.
Her pencil scratched furiously against the blank sheet of paper. Her father’s words from supper still troubled her thoughts. Words? he sneered. What good are a bunch of words supposed to do? When Lila had tried to argue that writing could make an impact, he had punched the table with his fist. She still remembered his blazing ice blue eyes and livid, tomato-red face. His voice was quiet, but hard as steel when he uttered, a stupid letter won’t change anything. Lila simply stood there, tears welling in her eyes. That part had hurt the most.
Times were hard, she knew it. Father was working long hours at the factory and many people, now destitute from unemployment, were resorting to crime and violence. Things had to change, which was why Lila was so determined to write that letter. Dear Mr. President, she began. She wrote about the unfair laws laborers were receiving and how it disproportionately affected the lower classes. She explained to him her family’s struggles and how the whole community was being affected. She recalled the protests on the streets and how the mobs were getting out of control. As she poured her heart into a powerful pool of words. Lila realized that the more she wrote, the more empowered she felt.
When Lila closed her eyes, she imagined all the families she saw on the street—broke, impoverished, and desperate. She imagined her father, always tired from working long hours. She imagined all the peaceful protestors marching on the street, advocating for change. This letter is for you, Lila thought. And you. And all those suffering people who deserve better than this. Lila read the letter once she was done. It felt strange to read her own writing, but she was surprisingly proud of it. With determination, she sealed the letter and walked outside to mail. Writing the letter had made her stronger, and it carried her every step of the way.
+324 words

July 6th:

Sign: Pisces
“Stop following me,” Violet says. She quickens her brisk pace.
We walk down the narrow, lamp-lit street, as I struggle to keep up with her.
“Violet!” I yell. “Violet, wait!”
She whips around. Her face is calm, but her dark brown eyes are blazing with hurt, anger, and sadness. And they’re looking at me. Accusing me.
“You know what you did wrong, Elle.” She doesn’t raise her voice, but it is cold and unforgiving, like shards of glass poking at my heart.
I take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Violet. Really, I am. I was just trying to help.”
She whirls around again, only this time she looks ten times angrier. Livid. “Just trying to help? Just trying to help? Elle, you ruined everything!”
My heart pounds in my chest, weighing me down. “I-I know, and I’m sorry. I just got so wrapped up in helping you that I didn’t realize I was making things worse.”
“Yeah?” she scoffs. “That’s a bit of an understatement.”
“Look, I’ll make it up to you! I promise!” I assure her.
She gives me a hard stare. “What I want is already gone. You took that from me, Elle.”
The guilt is unbearable now.
She continues. “I wish you would just stop making decisions for other people. It’s one thing to help someone, but it's like you were micromanaging my every move. I didn’t need that from you.”
I open my mouth to respond. “I’ve loved helping people my whole life. I just…I loved the satisfaction at the end. Seeing people happy. That was what I was trying to do for you.”
“I know. I know you had good intentions. It’s just that…I really wanted that orchestra position. You don’t know how much it meant to me.” She’s whispering by now, and I can see all the pain filling her eyes.
We’ve stopped walking by now. It’s just us two, standing in the middle of the street. Seeing Violet so dejected like that makes me want to do something. The tug in my brain is strong this time. I will help her, I think, with determination. I have to make things right.
—
The next day, Violet still looks depressed. At lunch, I went to go see the orchestra director, Mr. Brooke. I told him about Violet, and how she didn’t get into the orchestra because of me. I told him how I convinced her not to sign up too soon, so she would have more time to practice. I told him how she didn’t get the spot, because by the time she did sign up, it was already too late. Mr. Brooke watches me intently. It makes me uncomfortable but I keep going.
“It wasn’t Violet’s fault,” I told him. “It was mine.”
“Ah,” is all he says back.
“Please, sir, if you could just hear her play. Maybe you could reconsider?”
Mr. Brooke stands up. My heart falls with disappointment. Had I failed to convince him. Was I too insistent?
Instead, he smiles at me. “Actually, I have some good news.”
I perk up, hopeful.
“One of the musicians dropped out, so we have an open spot. Would, by any chance, your friend be interested in joining?”
I gape, unable to control my surprise. “O-of course! I’ll go find her afterschool.”
Mr. Brooke smiles. “See you then.”
When I exit the orchestra room, I am elated. Perhaps I have managed to help someone after all.
+572 words

July 7th:

Translated through: Italian, Lithuanian, Urdu, Vietnamese, Malayalam, Belarusian, and Chichewa

I used the song “Fire in the Sky” by Anderson Paak.
“In the summer we lower the roof and absorb the light.
I want to end the love of my life.
Beautiful and easy, like a northern trip
Look at the arrows in the sky”

We were cruising along the winding road, laughing with delight as the wind whipped in our faces. The night sky twinkled with stars and the moon cast a glow over the deep blue ocean. I gasped with laughter, the wind stinging my eyes. Ben had even pulled back the car roof, so the wind was roaring in my ears. I didn’t mind the noise, for the view was breathtaking.
“This is awesome!” I whooped.
Ben merely grinned. We locked eyes and I smiled, a warm feeling blooming through me. I wondered if my cheeks were pink from the wind, or from blushing. Perhaps it was both.
After cruising for about an hour, we finally pulled to a stop. It was a clearing at the edge of a rocky coastline, overlooking the ocean. At first, I was confused. This was not the place we had planned to go to.
“What? Why did we stop here?”
Ben gave me an elusive smile. Weird. “You’ll see.”
I rolled my eyes, annoyed by his vagueness. “Fine,” I grumbled, leaning against the hood of his car.
We stood there in silence for what felt like ages. My impatience was beginning to stir up. Ben, seeing my agitated expression, nudged me. “Relax. You’ll see soon.” There was a sparkle in his eyes, so I didn't complain, not wanting to ruin it for him.
After an agonizing five more minutes, the fireworks came. The bursts were quick, coming in short spasms, but to me, it felt like ages. Time seemed to slow down, as I marveled at the colorful explosions streaking across the night sky. They bloomed in every color of the rainbow, every shape and size. Fireworks seemed to shoot up from the horizon, like arrows streaking through the sky. I even enjoyed the fizzles and crackles of the fireworks exploding.
“Wow,” I breathed. It had been a long time since I had last experienced fireworks, or anything truly impressive for that matter.
“It’s great, huh?” Ben asked, his eyes fixed on the horizon. There was a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes, as if this experience had brought out something new in him. This was a Ben I never got to see, and I was grateful he had shown it to me.
“Thank you for showing me this,” I whispered. “I needed it.”
I don’t know if Ben heard me or not, and it may have been my imagination, but I thought I saw a smile play at his lips.
“I’ll never forget this,” I whispered.
And we locked eyes.
+425 words

July 10th:

I used yesterday's wordle because I don't want to spoil today's ^^.
Words: vague, spear, steam, stead

They had been braving the cold for hours. A thick blanket of snow covered the rocky mountain terrain that seemed to stretch for miles and miles. Layer upon layer of snow continued to fall, smothering any trace of the souls who dared to venture through the storm. As the snowstorm raged, Kenji’s view became even more obscured. He was blinded by a flurry of snow, wind, and ice.
The bitter cold was everywhere. It clung to Kenji like a tight, frosty blanket. Wherever he moved, the coldness moved with him, swirling in the air like a suffocating current.
Kenji’s brother, Haru, stopped to catch his breath. Steam rolled from Haru’s lips as he took deep breaths. Kenji, on the other hand, tried to avoid breathing. Every breath was like swallowing a painful spear that froze up his lungs.
“Haru,” Kenji croaked, his voice dry from the cold. “You alright?”
Haru squinted through the obscure veil of snow. He could barely see Kenji, who was right in front of him.
“Brother, we’ve been walking for hours. Where are you taking us?” His voice was laced with worry and exhaustion.
“We’re going on an adventure, remember?” Kenji said, rather brightly.
Haru frowned. “Well I don’t like this adventure so far.”
Kenji sighed, hugging his brother for warmth. He didn’t tell Haru the real reason why they were doing this—to set a record for climbing the highest mountain. Part of him regretted putting Haru in danger by bringing him along. It’s fine, Kenji tried to convince himself. He’ll be safe with me. Still, a tiny voice lurked at the back of his mind. What did you do? it asked him. What were you thinking? Kenji shoved the thoughts away.
They carried on through snow-capped mountains. The snowstorm had died down by now, and the brothers were sheltered from the wind by tall mountains on either side. Now, Kenji could finally get a better view of his surroundings. Rocky mountains jutted up from the snow, reaching to touch the sky. Haru had insisted they stop to take a break. His hair was crusted with ice and his eyelashes were frozen. Kenji felt a pang of guilt. His brother looked so miserable and tired. Once more, Kenji ignored the voice in his head. He pushed himself to keep going. It would all be worth it in the end, he told himself. Kenji tried to ignore the aching in his legs and the way his breath came in heaving exhales. He couldn’t bring himself to look at his poor Haru, looking absolutely beaten. It will all be worth it in the end, Kenji whispered to himself.
Still, the tiny voice nagged. Oh, but would it?
Haru walked glumly in silence, allowing Kenji to mull over his thoughts. So far, this “adventure” was not turning out as well as he had hoped. It was colder than he had predicted and the silence seemed to dampen the mood. Along the way, Kenji noticed several signs of human life. Broken spearheads, firewood, and stone chests. Suddenly, an odd thought struck Kenji. The items weren’t covered in too much snow, which means they were fairly recent. Who else lives here? Kenji thought. The notion of being surrounded by unfamiliar people sent chills down Kenji’s spine.
Haru must have noticed it too, for he spoke. “Kenji, what are those?”
“I’m not sure, but it looks like other people inhabit this area. Just be on the lookout okay?”
“Okay.”
Snow had begun to fall again, though it came in light swirls. That’s when Kenji noticed the homestead. It was an old, wooden building at the base of a tall mountainside. Smoke was rising from the chimney, signaling someone was burning a fire. The dark tones of the wood stood out, especially against the powdery, white snow.
“Look! A house!” Haru cried.
Kenji was a little suspicious. Why was there a house in the middle of a mountain pass?
“Please, can we go there brother? I’m so cold!”
Still, the idea of a warm fire was compelling. Exhaustion was wearing at Kenji’s body and every step hurt. He needed a break. Perhaps the person living there could let them rest by the fire. Kenji felt a small spark of hope.
Kenji sighed. “All right, fine. But I’m doing the talking.”
Haru grinned, the first time he’d smiled on this trip.
They walked up to the tiny house.
And he knocked.
+737 words

July 11th:
The sky was a dismal gray. The white, blinding sun peeked out ever so slightly from a hovering patch of dark clouds.
She walked down the street in a slow, sluggish manner, her eyes fixed on the cracked sidewalk. A sharp gust of wind breezed through the lonely street. Tall buildings loomed over her on either side. Their stone facades looked worn and faded, like everything else on the street. The dreary atmosphere only seemed to contribute to her sadness. Like a swelling tide, it surged inside of her, always on the rise.
As if on cue, great big droplets began to fall from the sky. The rain was a testimony to her pain, her suffering, her sadness. Droplets splattered against the sidewalk, washing everything and everyone in a somber embrace. She stood there in the rain, alone and still. Suddenly, her sadness had become a tangible thing, gushing from the sky. The rain represented the swelling tide inside of her. Overwhelming and overflowing.
By now, she was drenched. Her brown hair was a shade darker, as it clung to her head in a sopping mess. Her coat, which was not waterproof and severely dampened by the rain, provided no warmth. A puddle was beginning to form around her, and her shoes instantly became submerged in water. And yes, she was shivering from head to toe, but she chose to ignore it.
The intensity of the rain did not stop, much like her overwhelming sadness. And suddenly she began to cry, big fat droplets pouring down her face. Rain and tears cascaded down her face, intermingling and undistinguishable, for they were all the same. They were her melancholy, her despair, and her loneliness. Grief had consumed her. It tore away at all her remaining happiness, eating at the hole in her heart. It was an inescapable kind of despondency, one that could not be escaped.
Her cries rang out into the street, but no one was there. She cried tears of pain, but they were never heard by anyone else.
Grief, in any form, is never good, but this kind was the worst. This type of pain was self-imposed. Her tears only encouraged her sadness, feeding the monster from within. Listening to the sound of her own sobs only worsened her pain. Little did she know that she was feeding the beast. The more she cried, the more her mood declined. She was fully submerged in a puddle of despair and melancholy; it was inescapable.
And so, with nothing left to do, the girl stood there and continued to cry. She cried and cried and cried until there were no tears left. By now, the rain had diminished to a slight drizzling. With her tears gone and the rain dwindled, she was now left to navigate the aftermath of the storm. The sadness had left a gaping hole inside of her, leaving her fragile and vulnerable. But in the face of suffering, it had also left her with something else. Perhaps it was the emerging sun, but she was suddenly filled with warmth, a feeling that had since been forgotten. And so, she opened her arms to the light, letting the rays shine down on her.
In the aftermath of the storm, she had found something else among the rubble. The sadness had not completely left her, but another feeling was slowly coming back. It was happiness, determination, love, and strength. It was hope.
+574 words

July 15th:
Blue, bunny-shaped stress ball
She watched off stage, inside the grand concert hall. Chloe watched with nervous apprehension as a fellow contestant concluded her piece. She was so talented, mature, and graceful, fingers dancing across black and white keys. Flawless. A mixture of awe and envy washed over her, as the audience gave a roaring applause. Even the judges nodded approvingly.
Soon, it would be Chloe’s turn to perform. The stakes had never been so high, performing in one of the most elite piano competitions in the world. If she won this competition, her life would never be the same. As a winner of one of the most prestigious piano competitions in the world, she would be exposed to a whole new world of music. It gave Chloe butterflies just thinking about it. But only with hard work, she told herself. Dreams can only be achieved through hard work. Ever since she was seven, Chloe had dreamed of playing inside a grand chamber like this. The ceilings were high and intricately carved. Luxurious crystal chandeliers towered from the ceiling. Bright, warm lighting illuminated the stage, basking the performer in aureate glory. And the acoustics! The sound of the piano reverberated off the magnificent wall panels. That, at least, was one thing that reassured Chloe. When playing inside a concert hall like this one, the quality of the sound could always be counted on—from the grand piano to the acoustics.
The rest of the audience’s applause faded away, leaving Chloe with her rapid heartbeat, thumping against her chest. She realized her fingers were trembling. Was she always this nervous before a competition? Get a hold of yourself, Chloe reminded herself. When that didn’t work, she resorted to using her stress ball. The blue, bunny-shaped stress ball had been a gift from her piano teacher many years ago. She found that it came in handy whenever she was nervous before a big performance. Chloe wrapped her fingers around the squishy blob. She took out all her jealousy, anxiety, and apprehension on that stress ball. After years of use, it was faded and torn in some places, but Chloe loved it nonetheless. The next few performances went by in a blur, with Chloe’s half concentration. The rest of the stage had faded away, leaving her and her stress ball. It was a calming experience for sure. She squeezed and twisted it in every way possible until it looked on the verge of breaking. And then, she went and squeezed it some more.
The sound of more applause jolted Chloe back to the present. She took a look at the schedule: it would be her turn next. Quickly, Chloe ran through the pieces in her head. Beethoven Piano Sonata No. 8 in C minor. Chopin’s Waltz in F major. And finally, Liszt’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2 as her grand finale. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Chloe stepped onto stage. Her heart was still pounding in her chest. Her fingers were still trembling slightly. But she forced herself to be calm, as she took a seat at the piano bench. Closing her eyes, she began to play.
+521 words

July 16th
Penny remembered the day she first arrived at the orphanage. Its faded gray facade stood tall and forlorn, shadowing over her. She stood, lingering on the front steps, alone and miserable. Tears were streaming down her face, as realization finally hit her. I have no one left in this world, she thought dejectedly. I’m…I’m completely alone. The tears kept flowing, tiny streams cascading down her face. She knocked, a feeble, trembling fist rapping the door. In her hands were nothing but an old, leather suitcase and her orphan identification forms. Having no living relatives, Penny was truly alone. Childcare services had sent her to the orphanage, but that was it. They hadn’t even bothered to wait until she was let in. I suppose I’m going to have to get used to doing things on my own now, Penny thought. She was only seven, but in the few weeks that she’d lost her parents, pain had forced her to mature much faster than expected. Childhood was escaping her, Penny could already feel it. She tried desperately to hold on to those last few moments, but already, the warmth—her flame—was fleeting. Never had Penny felt so hollow inside.
And so, Penny continued to sit on the orphanage steps. A rough wind was now gusting through the streets, filling her with coldness. She’d managed to stop crying, but her eyes were still misty and teary. All of these thoughts had passed through Penny within minutes. In fact, she’d only been waiting at the orphanage for roughly two minutes now. Finally, a lady came to pick her up. Her face softened as she laid eyes on Penny’s shivering body. She led Penny into a cozy sitting room, and let her warm up by the fire. Now, she could feel warmth spreading through her. Wrapping Penny in a comforting embrace, the lady let Penny sob into her arms. She sniffed. Maybe she did feel a little bit better after all.
+325 words

July 18th:

(I based this SWC fanfiction off of Peter Rabbit, where Peter goes to SWC and causes some mangoes mayhem…)
Once upon a time, there lived four children—Fiona, Mellie, Claire, and Peter. They were wild, adventurous kids, but there was no doubt they had big hearts. The four siblings did everything together. Watching movies. Swimming at the community pool. Riding bicycles at the park. Trouble did seem to follow them, especially Peter. Once, he was hungry on his way home from school, so he snuck into the neighbor’s garden to steal some strawberries. Later, the neighbor noticed the broken stems on his strawberry plants and interrogated every single person on the street. When Peter was found guilty, the neighbor was livid, and demanded that Peter pay the price. And that is how Peter found himself raking leaves for the entire summer, while his sisters got to play at the park.
One day, Peter’s mother saw an ad in the paper for a summer camp. Glamorous pictures of lakeside cabins and a glimmering lake appeared on the front page, with the title, DO YOU WANT TO GO TO SCRATCH WRITING CAMP? The bold, capitalized letters all seemed a bit excessive to Peter, but nonetheless, he was intrigued. This, he realized, was the perfect scheme to get him out of his summer raking punishment. And, what better way to spend your free time than a glamorous camp in the woods? Peter had to admit, the writing camp did seem like a lot of fun.
The next day, Peter confided in his sisters with the plan. They didn’t approve of him getting out of his summer yard work, but they were interested in the camp. So, as soon as Mother came home from work, the four siblings begged to go to this camp. After much fervent pleading and tactical reasoning, Mother finally agreed, the way she always did when her four boisterous kids pestered her with demands.
The start of camp would be July 1st, but kids were welcome to come a few days early. So, on June 28th, the siblings packed their bags and headed off towards Scratch Writing Camp. The first thing Peter noticed when he got there was the address: 2022 Mango Street. It was odd, but Peter did love mangoes, so he shrugged it off. Mother pulled up to a wide, expansive clearing rimmed with cabins, and bordered by a glimmering lake. In the center stood the largest cabin, the Main Cabin. As it turned out, Peter and his sisters were all sorted into the same cabin: Historical Fiction. While Fiona, Mellie, and Claire set off to go unpack their bags, Peter decided to look around camp. Several campers had already arrived, and some already seemed to know each other—presumably the frequent participants. Instead of sleeping in their respective cabins, some people had set their sleeping bags on the ground, in front of the Main Cabin. It looked like they were waiting for something. Later, Peter found out that the campers had been camping out in front of the Main Cabin to wait for new dailies and weeklies. Odd, Peter thought. Some people are really invested in this camp.
But, alas, the real reason Peter came to this camp was not to write, and most surprisingly, was not to get out of yard work. You see, the real reason Peter came to SWC was because he was the epitome of trouble. Mischief followed him around like a relentless mist, refusing to disperse. The address, 2022 Mango Street had already sparked a great idea in him. Mango Wars, Peter thought schemingly. He could already imagine it—a great battle involving shrieking campers and a whole lot of mangoes.
Mango Wars were coming.
+601 words

July 19th:
My legs had never pumped so fast. We were running like mad—desperately and aimlessly, anything to escape from the beast that was narrowing in on us. His prey.

Ahead of me, Ronan looked back. Perspiration glinted on his forehead, and his eyes were wide with terror. “Hurry up!” he shrieked.

I didn’t need him to tell me that the monster was narrowing in. I could feel his hot, rancid breath blowing against me as I ran.

It is one thing to feel scared. Bring it up fifty notches, and then you have this—excruciating terror. It is the kind of terror you get from being chased by a vile beast, especially one that is capable of tearing you apart in seconds. That’s terror.

Ronan I had been sprinting for a while now, but still, we couldn’t lose the beast. The adrenaline was what kept me going, but exhaustion now tore at my body. My forehead glistened with sweat and every step sent pain spiking up my ankles. My chest was heaving and my heart thumped wildly—a rising, rapid metronome.

My body and my mind were screaming two, conflicting verdicts. RUN! said my brain, even though my body was flagging. I tried to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, as both came together to form a rhythmic patting.

Pat. Pat. Pat. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Fifteen minutes of non-stop sprinting and still, the monster was right behind us. I made the mistake of turning around, and almost stumbled, but not before I caught a glimpse of the beast. He was huge. Perhaps the strangest thing about him was the fact that he was entirely made up of shadows. Twisted, towering shadows loomed over me as I ran.

The panic of the chase—being in the shadow of a towering beast—reminded me of a song. It was one my father used to sing to me when I was little.

Run little rabbit, run, run, run.
If the fox catches up, you’ll be done!

I now realized. I was the rabbit and the shadow was the fox. I was the prey in this wild chase.

Kick, little rabbit, kick, kick, kick.
The fox is catching up, so better be quick.

Fragments of the song were now washing back to me in overwhelming waves.

The nightingale sings a song of loss.
Who will it be, the rabbit or the fox?

Behind me, the monster snarled. I tensed, preparing to dodge whatever attack he was planning. Finally, he let out an ear-splitting roar, making the air tremble. It was then that I remembered the final verse of the song.

The chase carries on in the midnight forest.
Run little rabbit, run, run, run.

Over and over, I repeated that phrase to myself.

Run little rabbit, run, run, run.
+464 words

July 24th:

Every day, afterschool, at exactly 3 o’clock in the afternoon,
I visit my grandma’s Chinese restaurant
Pushing through the doors, I step into
A dimly lit room, with a warm glow

The lucky cat greets me, rocking an arm
18 tables, with chairs, lay clustered around the room
It’s dark wood, worn and scratched from years of use
No customers yet—it’s still early

I step into the kitchen, where chefs are hard at work
My grandma, even in her old age, stands resolutely at the cutting board
Chopping onions and garlic
Bang, Bang, Bang, echoes the sound of knife against wood

A wok erupts in flames
As another chef skillfully stir-frys meat and vegetables
It sizzles loudly, ringing in my ears
The fragrant aroma of spiced beef wafts through the kitchen

My nai nai takes a break from her chopping
To hand me a snack
A hot plate of barbeque pork bao
Fresh out of the steamer

I head to the back of the restaurant
To do my homework
And eat my snack
My nai nai reminds me to study hard

As I munch on my barbeque pork buns
Warm, and steaming in my hands
It’s soft and pillowy as I bite into it
The barbeque pork leaving a salty-sweet taste on my tongue

Once again I am reminded
Of the comfort found in my nai nai’s restaurant
Nothing beats the taste of her pork baos
Or the familiar sight of the bustling kitchen

Dishes clanging in the background
The smell of garlic, soy sauce, and seasoned meat
This restaurant is one I have come to love
A second home, away from home
+273 words

(nai nai = grandma in Mandarin
bao = steamed bun, usually with a meat filling)

July 25th:
(This is inspired by the International Renaissance Faire (Hi-fi cabin)
As you step through the doors, a whole new world unfolds before you. It’s bright and sunny here, which is odd, because outside was cloudy. The field is lush and green, and sprinkled with shady trees. Rows of stalls are clustered neatly around the grass. People mill about, stopping at the different stalls to examine golden piles. You step closer, to see what all the hype is about. And that’s when you realize: those golden piles are mangoes. In every tent, huge piles of mangoes tower before you, all all different varieties. Honey. Kent. Manila. Alphonse. In addition to the fruit itself, there is a wide expanse of mango products. Vendors stand with huge, colorful signs reading, “Mango Jam: Free Samples!” or “Buy 1 Get 1 Free Mango T-shirts!” As you continue walking through the row of stalls, you come to a sign strung across two tents.
“Welcome to the International Mango Faire!”
+153 words

July 26th:
My Description:
The Hotel Springfield is a bustling place. Throughout the day, one can see guests milling about the perfectly manicured front lawn, or relaxing by its private lake. From dusk to dawn, cars piled with luggages drive up on the gravel road in front of the hotel. Springfield is the nicest hotel in all the land, attracting much attention from all over the state. Located on the edge of a forest, it is known for being a relaxing retreat, especially for those who love nature. The Hotel Springfield has a white façade lined with columns and clear glass windows. This allows much natural light to stream into the hotel. The lobby is a wide, spacious room with a carpet rolling down the middle and lounge chairs on either side. Down the hall, elevators travel to sixteen floors. This hotel is considered quite large for its time.
+145 words

Setting by @Bellevue91 after 100 years:
One hundred years ago, Cadence City was a paradise. Constructed from the most recent technology, it was said to be a strong, safe city. Or so they thought. Cadence City was located in a major tsunami hotspot. For years, people dismissed the threat, thinking their innovative technology could protect them. Yet technology can only shield to a certain extent. And it just so happened that technology could not shield Cadence City from the tsunami that came one fateful day.
The people of Cadence City had been warned. Mysterious activity at the bottom of the sea led scientists to believe that a tsunami was coming. So why didn’t they leave? Citizens of Cadence City were proud, stubborn people—especially with their newest technology. They thought it could protect them, and so they chose to stay.
As predicted, the tsunami came, a huge towering wave unlike any seen before. The city’s defenses could not protect it, for the wave was simply too powerful. It struck the outer barrier, designed specifically for tsunamis, punching through as if it were a piece of paper. The tsunami swallowed the island. Flooding streets, tearing down buildings. The great skyscrapers in the center of the island were swept away, just like that.
Now, it remains a barren wasteland. Remnants of that fateful day still remain, in the bits of broken glass and the ruptured streets. Even the airport was reduced to piles of rubble. The newest luxury planes, which were the pride and joy of Cadence City, had also been swept away, littering the ground with broken wings. Part of the island has been submerged by water. The center that remains has been overrun with plants. Springing up from the rubble, they cover the ground in a dense thicket of green. It is nothing like the sparkling city it once was, for nature has taken its course.
+309 words

July 29th:
Beginning: Your character is teleported to another world.
Conflict: Someone burned your house down.
Setting: World full of mushrooms
Climax: You’re facing 3 trials to see if you are worthy in the mango kingdom
Ending: Your character learns how to stop running and face their fears.

The flashing images of last night’s inferno were still fresh in my mind. I could still hear the roaring of the flame and the swell of orange that had flashed before my eyes. Inside my house, I had been enjoying a movie, when all of a sudden, there was a boom from upstairs.
No one else was home.
Tentatively stepping, I made my way upstairs. And…
There was a huge, roaring fire in front of me. It seemed to be coming out of nowhere, flames tickling the air, latching onto nothing. Stumbling back, I crashed into the stair railing. The room was starting to fill with smoke. I could feel my mind going hazy, as ash swirled in the air. That was odd—it seemed to be coming from the airborne fire in front of me. In fact, I could see nothing burning.
The air, however, was suffocating. My lungs felt heavy, as I inhaled smoke and ashes. The world around me flashed, and then it started to dim. I could feel myself falling, landing on the ground with a thud.
Then everything went blank.
—
I wake to the sound of leaves rustling and the earthy smell of dirt. Emerging from my daze, I sit up. After blinking a few times, the world before me comes into focus. That’s odd. Last time I remembered, I had been at home. That’s when it strikes me. The fire. Evidence of the blaze is still on me, in the ash clinging to my shirt and the smoky smell that taints my body. But enough of that. Now I am left to focus on this—the present.
I appear to be in some sort of overgrown landscape. The ground is springy and soft, tall blades of grass shooting from the soil. In the distance I spot a hazy mound of something. At first, it looks like mountains, but as I trudge forward, I realize they’re mushrooms. Huge, colossal mushrooms shoot from the ground, towering over the surrounding land. That’s when it all hits me. This is not my home. I’m stranded and lost in the middle of nowhere. And there are giant, literal mushrooms towering in front of me.
I think I am going crazy.
—
This is all a dream, I tell myself. Nothing more than your stupid imagination.
Still, my brain is not convinced.
WAKE UP!
Nope. I am still here.
Eventually, I just give up and sit in the shade of a mushroom. They are everywhere, though the ones closer are not as big as the ones in the distance. Perhaps it is just my mind playing tricks on me, but I spot three figures approaching me.
Uh oh. The last thing I need is confrontation with another rational being. Standing up, I wave awkwardly. Is that the right thing to do around here? The figures make no notice of my gesture. They just keep walking, in my direction.
I realize that their faces are concealed by billowing gray robes. No sign of skin reveals anything about their appearance. They look…normal enough? Still, I am wary as they stop in front of me.
In a raspy voice, one of them says, “Greetings, fellow being. And what is your business here?”
I shuffle nervously. What was I supposed to say? “Uh, greetings to you, too. I landed here by accident. Where am I?”
Another cloaked figure says, in a more neutral pitch, “Why, you are in the Mushroom Realm.”
I stare, not sure whether to believe this. Mushroom Realm? Does that even exist?
The cloaked figures now draw back to huddle and whisper. I catch snippets of their conversation. “But she’s a sign!” one of them hisses, a little too loudly. “Who knows what she is? How can we trust her?”
After that, their voices quiet down. I catch tiny bits and phrases. Something about a “mango kingdom” and “trials.”
Uh oh. I don’t like how this is sounding.
Finally, they turn to address me. “Little earthling, we have come to the conclusion that you are the Sign from the prophecies.”
“Yes,” one of them choruses. “You’re the chosen one meant to bring peace to our people!”
I step back, dumbfounded. “Wait, what? I don’t even know what people you’re talking about.”
Yet the three figures don’t seem to care. “Hah, she’s funny! What other people could we be talking about? The Mango Kingdom, obviously.”
I am convinced I have reached my breaking point. All of this is too bizarre to handle. Mango Kingdom? Chosen one? Prophecies?
“However,” one of the figures responds gravely. “In order to ultimately prove yourself, you must pass three trials to gain admittance into the Mango Kingdom. Even chosen ones don’t get special clearance.”
I feel my heartbeat quicken. Of all the things I have experienced today, this one strikes the hardest. I don’t exactly relish the idea of facing trials in order to gain admittance to a so-called Mango Kingdom I’ve never even heard of. And yet…I find myself following those three figures across the grass.
Something in my mind is telling me to trust them. So I do.
Swallowing my fears, I head off in the direction of the promised Mango Kingdom.
+864 words



Weeklies

Week 1

Week 2

Week 3:

Week 4:

Other

(poem from a dare)

It’s soft and squishy
In my hand, I marvel at its
Golden glory
Lips parting, teeth chewing slowly
For I must savor
This melty, gooey goodness
Cheese blobs.
+28 words

MYSTERY IS THE BEESSSTT!
—————
Dailies:


Epilogue—July 1st:

—

Winter of 1982, Leviathan Forest

Mara Josephine Belleviere’s eyes opened. There was a sound that was making her restless. Click-boom, click-boom. The sound repeated itself, getting fainter, and fainter. Maybe it would disappear. Suddenly, Mara cupped her hands around her eyes. It was so bright! Something had just began glowing, and it was as it the sun was right next to her. Mara couldn’t take this anymore. What was that in the woods? She picked up her blanket from her sleeping bag and opened the flap of her tent. She could see the outline of her parents sleeping in their tent because of the light. Mara wrapped the blanket around her. Even through her sweater, jacket, and the blanket she was still freezing. Mara slipped on her snow boots, and began walking to the woods. Her feet crunched in the crisp snow, and snowflakes fell around her. The light grew brighter as she inched closer toward the woods. Mara took her first step in the woods, and heard peaceful singing. The snow was now gone. “What?” thought Mara. Suddenly, the peace was broken. There was a loud roar, and the light disappeared, and the woods plunged into darkness. She heard a snort, like one of a wild animal. She heard the scuff of something—hooves, or claws maybe—on a nearby rock. Then she heard it charge. Mara screamed, and ran to the side of the thing and just barely missed it. She could feel the wind rush by. Mara dropped her blanket. Shivering, and in fear, Mara ran out of the woods never intending to come back.

Spring of 2020, Hoover’s Marsh

Ariana Natasha Rookston sat quietly, contemplating. Her family was planning to buy Belleviere’s Mansion up by the Leviathan Forest. It was possibly haunted-the mansion and the forest. She needed to come up with a plan to convince her parents not to buy the mansion. She recalled one of her favorite books by the infamous anonymous author LightSeer. In the first book LightSeer had written, called “The Light” a character named Amara Josie Bennec had seen a mysterious light coming from the Leviathan Forest. Mama said these stories weren’t true. The problem was “The Light” was found in the non-fi section of the local library. Ariana had told Mrs. Reynolds’s the librarian about this mishap. She winked at Ariana and said, “Ahh…some stories are just meant to be true.” “Does this mean that Amara was real? That there was really magic in that forest?!” Ariana had exclaimed. Mrs. Reynolds’s didn’t reply, she just winked at Ariana. When Ariana told this to Mama, she said, “Oh, Ariana, don’t listen to Bethany (Mrs. Reynolds), she gets to entwined in her fantasies.” But secretly Ariana still believed Mrs. Reynolds. So she made a fantasy that she would win the lottery. And she did. When her rich Grannie died, she wished to inherit Grannie’s fortune. And yes, Ariana did. So Ariana developed her motto, “Aren’t all fantasies meant to come true?” And thus, she decided to face Belleviere’s mansion and Leviathan Forest.

-word count = 510 words


July 1st—Actual daily:

-I’m sorry lol I’m new to SWC I didn’t know there was a prompt.

Hello my name is Zebra/August and I use they/fae pronouns. I love writing and I’m in the mystery cabin this month. My goal for words is 25k because I can write a whole lot if I set my mind to it. I love writing and reading all stories that are fiction. I do poetry too and I’m excited for SWC.

-word count = 60

I've been having an idea for a fanfic for awhile, but I wanted it to count towards swc lol so this is the perfect time to start!! <3

⌦ .｡.:*♡ The Owl House FF - *insert pog epik title*
TOC

{.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.}
Intro:
My head pounds, my stomach aches and I know i'm covered in cuts and bruises. I taste grass, but i'm to tired to care. Why should I care, why would I deserve to care, I don't even want to care I tell myself. I lay there for what feels like hours, days even, but I know that it's only been a few minutes. Suddenly, I hear movement beside me. I don't know who it is, but then again it doesn't matter. We're stuck in the human realm with no way to get out. THE HUMAN REALM! When I was younger, I'd always dreamed about what it must be like to live among only the same species. To not have magic (not that I have any) or coven heads to keep everybody in line, though now that I think of it that's probably a good thing. Besides who even knows where we are? Maybe we're miles and miles away from anybody. Maybe we'll die out here, probably for the best. Whoever had moved a few minutes ago groaned. “Hunter, are you gonna lie there forever?”
“Yes.”
“Suit yourself.”
I know I can't just lie here forever, but I have absolutely no strength whatsoever to get up. My body stings and aches and most of all… I'm afraid to get up. Afraid to let this whole situation sink in. I'm afraid of answers. I'm afraid of finding out who or what I am.

Chapter 1:
I slowly open my eyes to a dark room. I shiver as a gust of wind shakes the whole room. I look around trying to find someone. Great now I'm cold and alone. I sit up and look around at the room. My eyes have started to adjust to the darkness and I can sort of make out the outlines of objects. The room seems to be small and it isn't built like a house. It seems I'm in some sort of small shack. I sigh and stand up and start to make my way to what I think is a door. I step on something sharp and it takes everything I have not to scream. I'm still not sure where I am so it's probably just best to stay quiet for now. What if I've been kidnapped? What if I've been separated from the others. I grope from the door handle and once I find it I wrap my hand around it. I pull the door open and from what I remember when we first landed in the human realm this is the exact same spot we fell into, if that's an accurate way of describing whatever the heck happened to us. It's still raining and it extremely windy. I can see a house with it's lights on not far from the shack.

I make my way towards the house. I

Idk how to delete ignore this

Introduction

Main Cabin Daily, July 1st: Hello and welcome to SWC! Use today to introduce yourself and get to know your cabin. SWC starts as soon as it's July in *your* timezone! When SWC has started for you, write something (anything literary!) and add it using your cabin’s word adding system to make sure you’re on top of how it all works!

Fan-fi Cabin Daily, July 1st: Welcome to the first day of camp! Today’s daily is to introduce yourself to your fellow fan-fi campers! Feel free to mention your nickname, pronouns, hobbies, and favorite fandoms! We’re excited to meet you! ^^

1134 words

Hello! I’m Wari, and I’m so excited to be starting the first day of SWC! I’ve been waiting for this moment for months, and now, after many weeks of coding, drawing, writing, and planning, July 1st is finally here!

The main cabin daily is to introduce yourself to the cabin and add something literary, which, according to Sawyer, is copy and paste from last session XD. Last time, I just wrote a brief 40-word description of myself, but I have since learned that it is SWC tradition to write a thousand-word introduction on the first day. I’m up for the challenge, so let’s get started!

Again, I’m Wari, and I go by she/her pronouns. Some of my favorite hobbies are drawing, coding, reading, and, of course, writing, which is what led me to Scratch Writing Camp. I’ve been on Scratch for about 4 years, but only started being active around a year ago, when I started Lost, a comic series.

I created Lost because I was inspired by the many rising comic series on Scratch, such as ToPH, Flight, and Missing Stars. I wanted to practice using pictures to tell a story, especially one set in the world of one of my favorite fandoms, Warriors, so I sketched out a storyline and started posting chapters. I’ve released 7 so far, three comic chapters and four written ones, and I’m hoping to return to comic format for Chapter 7.

My primary tool for art is FireAlpaca, and creating Lost has made me a bit better at drawing cats over the past year. At some point, I decided to try drawing dragons from another of my favorite fandoms, Wings of Fire. The first dragon I drew was Toucan, one of my RainWing OCs. I followed a tutorial by @TheSuperSquib, and, pleased with my progress, I decided to redraw Toucan by looking at references of RainWings across Scratch. Both versions of Toucan are contained in my Dragon Art Dump project, which I posted in December of last year.

Looking back, my initial art seems terrible, but that’s just a mark of how much you can grow if you dedicate yourself to something you enjoy. After I drew a couple more Rainwings, I decided to step out of my comfort zone and try drawing an IceWing. I experimented with backgrounds and lighting, as well as a new way to draw dragon talons and wings. Fractal the IceWing received a lot of support from the Scratch Community, which encouraged me to keep going with my dragon drawings.

Next came my NightWing, SeaWing, and HiveWing art processes. In each one, I experimented with new poses, colors, and environments, and learned many things about drawing dragons. I’m currently working on a new dragon drawing, which should be finished sometime this month.

Now let’s turn to one of my other hobbies: reading. I’m part of a LOT of fandoms, and I’ve read most of the most famous ones, as well as many lesser known series. Two of my favorites, as I’ve already mentioned, are Warriors and Wings of Fire. I’ve read almost all of the Warriors books, and all of the Wings of Fire ones.

On Scratch, I participate in the Warriors community mainly through my comic, Lost. A few months ago, I joined TFCRP with my character, the loner Shiver, but I eventually left again due to not having enough time to participate. I might join up again soon, especially because RP-ing will give me a chance to write even more words for Fan-fi.

Speaking of SWC, I was drawn to this camp because I wanted to grow my writing in a fun, competitive environment. Before SWC, some of my favorite genres to write in were fantasy, fanfiction, poetry, and adventure, but in March 2022, I realized that I loved dystopian, science fiction, and many other genres.

I first learned about SWC when I saw Alyelle’s July 2021 leader application. After looking around a bit, I was interested in the idea of joining SWC, but didn’t really think it was something I wanted to do.

In mid-January 2022, I changed my mind and decided to check on SWC again, and was happy to see that camper signups would open up on February 1st. So I stalked Birdi’s profile until camper signups came out, and signed up on the first day.

I put in an 8,000 word goal, and, since I didn’t really know any of the cabin leaders, put no preference for cabin. When March rolled around, I was surprised to see that I was placed in the Fanfiction Forest. Out of 15 cabins, what were the odds that I’d be placed in the genre I wrote the most in?

And that session was an incredible experience. I was plunged into a competition between three groups of Forest guardians. I was one of the Warriors, and I especially enjoyed the in-cabin dailies where I had to write from the perspective of a Warrior. I wrote about 5 journal entries, and it helped me experience the plot from a very personal perspective! Luna, Katie, and Andy did an incredible job with the cabin, and I was so happy when all of my fellow Fan-fiers and I were able to push our cabin to 2nd!

Of course, my wonderful first session is what made me decide that I wanted to try being a leader in July 2022. I started working on my leader app in April, with an initial theme of an interactive botanical garden. However, I realized that such a project would take too much time and energy to finish before the deadline, so I switched it over to a simpler theme.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE everything about space, so what better way to showcase that than to create a model of the solar system? I drew all the planets and backgrounds in FireAlpaca, and researched facts about each planet on the internet. With a bit of code wrangling, I managed to make my planets orbit, and, with a few finishing touches, I posted my SWC Leader Application after a month of work.

On May 18th, I checked Scratch to see I had 30 messages. I HAD GOTTEN LEADER OF FAN-FI JKFJEKFJELA. I was so excited to be leading my former cabin for the new session, and, as soon as I got my wonderful cos, Katie, Hope, and Willow, we started planning for the oncoming session.

And now, after a month and a half, that day is finally here! I’m so happy to get SWC started, and I can’t wait for all the writing, excitement, and fun that is surely on the way! My campers and co-leaders are amazing people, and I have no doubt that Fan-fi shall persevere this session!

Thank you for reading, and Fan-fi FTW!

❀

Rain's July 2022 Writing Folder

❀

✎ claimed post #130 on page 7

└╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌┘

❝ late at night I imagine
stars twinkling blinking (in) the sky
Close my eyes and dream ❞
-Rain, May 2021

❝ The moon waves
The grass sways
The leaves rustle
And the lake grumbles
And I don’t make any trouble. ❞
-Rain, April 2021

┌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌┐

here again in the megathread *wry grin*

Hi I'm Rain, your average teen who was incoherently bribed I mean persuaded to join this sixteenth session of SWC I like reading, writing, and singing! I'm an INFP-T, HSP, ennegram type nine, and an aquarius. I'm also an incoming tenth grader in the fall (ten years :0 also sixteen :00) These days I'm pretty busy with high school. Large dump of writing here we go and I signed up as a backup which means that I'm only going to be here for about half the month This is going to be my fifth session(uh yeah I'm getting old) in swc. and yeah. My timezone is PDT.
Have fun reading my stories! <33

Word goal: 15k

Cabin: Adventure
#adventureftw
(biased and rooting for mystery because Jia's a co) *blushes* rooting for two cabins sorry-but also adventure b/c I'm in adventure




my writing >>>

https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/490706/?page=1#post-4957549 , https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/491669/?page=1#post-4968285 (March 2021)
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/524770/ (July 2021)
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/553307/?page=3 , https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/550189/ (November 2021)
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/582424/?page=3 (March 2022)


Dailies
July 8th: +493 words

"Fireflies” By Owl City
…because planet Earth turns slowly

That night, it was just me. And myself and I. It was July, and I had packed all my stuff, ready to go. “Are you ready?” my dad called from over his shoulder. I sighed. I was almost ready. I just needed a few more things. I think I was almost ready. I wasn’t exactly sure. I think I needed a few more things. “Almost. Ready. Maybe I need ice packs? Granola bars to go, for sure, plus my sleeping bag and other things just in case-” I whipped out the door. “Have fun at camp! It was the great outdoors, I wasn’t sure what was to love about the great outdoors. It was stinky. And smelly. And there were mosquitoes in the outdoors. But for them, my parents, I forced a smile. Yep! Got those too. “Bye,” they told me. I wouldn’t be back home for maybe five weeks. I told myself to calm down. I wouldn’t get homesick. Not even the tiniest bit. And if I did, well, I could always email. Or I could always write letters, check in to see how they were doing. I couldn’t believe that this summer was starting already, but it was too good to be true maybe. And with that, the car engine revved and we were off to start our adventure.


Alright so I may have lied a little bit. We didn’t start our adventure. It was actually a long long trip. The place we were going was far away, so we had to drive. For like four hours. I know. Kinda boring. But we were going to a lake, so maybe it was worth it? I don’t really know. I kicked my shoes off in the backseat and sighed. Let the summer fun begin (I guess!) I had got my lemonade with me, and so I drank it eagerly. I waited some more and we finally stopped at the lake. Ahh. The lake. I got out of the car and what I did immediately was slam the old, rickety car door.


It was getting late, and my dad drove off. “Have fun!” he called, and then I smiled wanly. I would. The sky was growing dark, and the light, it seemed perfect in every possible way.
I laid down close, sort of close to the dock, where the shore was, and sat there, my legs dangling as the stars came out.
I didn’t want to leave everything behind, and plus I had my belongings left, stored in the cabin for that night for me to go to sleep.
Night animals were starting to come out, and an owl started to hoot, a cricket noticed and chirped.

Fireflies were flickering all around my head, and it seemed like magic, like a light switch that had flicked on and then flicked off again.

And I thought what if
It was a possibility, what if things could change
What if planet Earth did turn slowly?

July 10th +733 words

Words: Reese, water, false, tolls, yea (and more but not bothering to put them here ^^)

My name is Reese, and this is the story of how I went through the perilous journey and didn’t die. Or proceeded to not die. Or tried to not die? One of those.

I was drowning. At least, it looked like it. I checked myself to make sure I was safe. *check!* parameters, I whispered to myself. There was water where I was at, and I stared out at it. It didn’t look too deep, but just a couple of inches to a couple of feet deep. I had read in books that actually water made up less space than land. Land made up around ⅓ of Earth and water made up maybe two-thirds. I could do this. It looked like there was barbed wire around here anyway. I could get around a couple of booby traps, no problem. It was just going to be maybe a little bit hard to get through. I grunted as I passed yet another “danger” sign. Surely it wasn’t that dangerous, right? I mean, why else would there be keep out signs? Then I shot a glance at the dirty barrels lying next to the door. I guess there’s a reason why they needed to clean the place up. Not so they could trap people? It was right next to me, at least I think it was right next to me. I let the dirty barrels sit where they were, and then walked into the supposedly dangerous place.


Things are supposed to be like this. Usually, at the beginning of a story, a hero gets a quest, goes on some marvelous adventure, and then finishes and wins, right? At least that’s how it is in my book. But that’s not how it was in my case. I frowned. I wanted to just feel amazing for once. I wanted to feel like I’d done something useful to society. I thought that after you helped, then you’d feel whole, you’d feel complete. But I guess my job isn’t done?

Then something came to mind.
“You’ve won the battle…but you haven’t won the war.” What was that even supposed to mean? I guess I haven’t defeated everything yet. I cracked open the door slowly, trying to see if there was anybody in there. There wasn’t. I could hear more inherent talking and shouting through the vents, more kinetic bonds being stored up. Perhaps it was just energy being soaked through the hallways, but I swear, if not for different things, I could have sworn that it was maybe…maybe a false warning. Something that was being put there to accuse me of something that I didn’t exactly do. I had to let my guard down at all times, because I feel like someone, or something, was watching me. Eerily, I felt a tingle on my spine again, but shook it off. It’s fine, I thought. I’ve gotten through worse things than this, right? Hm. I spotted something faint glowing in the distance, and I thought it was my spark of hope. My heart started to beat faster, and my eyes lit up at the sight of finally seeing something hopeful. Maybe I could finally get out of this island and finally not be trapped here. But it wasn’t what I thought it would be. It was actually just an illusion. I sank in despair, and I sighed. This was really not my day. But walking along the hallway, I pushed a button by accident. It was deep red and I pushed it, and it simply read one single thing. I think it was a sign there to mostly keep interlopers and other trespassers out, but I could be wrong. It read, “Pay for tolls. $5.90 only.” Five dollars and ninety cents. That seemed like a fairly reasonable price. I wasn’t bothering to press the toll button, so I hesitated at the hallway and stopped at the entrance to only press against myself.




Why was I here, anyway? In this deserted, stuck island, battling for survival. There had to be some reason. The odds, wondering why I was here. I was Reese. I was brought here by helicopter somehow, and now I was here in this hallway by myself.

Then, the voice again in my head.

It was more soft this time. But it toned down to more of a whisper.


“You’ve won the battle, but you haven’t won the war.”

July 11th +603 words
I cough as I stumble into what looks like the wilderness. I don’t want to be frantic, but it is a little bit hard seeing as I haven’t slept in the past three days. It’s hard being sleep deprived and such, I know, which may seem a tad confusing for me. It looks like a forest from afar, but my eyes could be tricking me and it may not be a forest after all. I widen my eyes and try to see if it is, but right now it looks like overgrown hedges and dense bushes. Wow. That was actually well…it wasn’t that intense. But then I whipped around because a solemn, quiet noise surrounded me. It wasn’t loud at first, but then it slowly got louder, and louder and louder as the time progressed. I I could barely hear a thing over the loud, chaotic mess. It was really loud in here, and all I wanted to tell them was to maybe turn the sound down. But they just wanted to turn the sound up, which was practically the opposite of what I wanted. This summer was lasting forever, to be honest with you. I was going to remember this summer forever-not because of it’s similar importance but because it was just amazing. To be…together. But it really was dragging on forever. The blazing hot heat, dry grass, and the sun was just seemingly days on end. Not that I wanted the school year to come any faster, but I just loved relaxing in the summer sun. This was boring. Nothing else to do. Hm. I looked a little bit further. Well, there was new territory out into the open. My eyes lit up a little bit at that. New territory, unclaimed and unexplored, for me to venture out. That was always a bonus, of course! Territory. I spotted something in the distance and squinted. What was that? It looked like a shadow of something, but I couldn’t quite tell what it was. A deer perhaps? No. It was moving faster than that to be a deer. It could be a porcupine! Probably a porcupine. I had heard rumors about them; that they were fast-moving and had spikes/spines very large. Overall, it was a generalized rule of thumb that you shouldn’t touch them at all. Coughing, I made my way back to the center, and sat in the large tree stump. Hopefully the person would be here soon. They did say that they’d be here soon, but who knew if they even checked things like this. Also, although this was a regular forest, it was sort of creepy the way that animals and critters were flying all around the place, and the way that I could sort of…hear things. It was a little echoy and a little just a little noisy for my taste. I bit my lip, and tried to clear my brain. Nobody was watching me, right? Totally a normal enchanted forest. I looked at the tree trunk, that had ripened a lot since I had first arrived. It had bark strewn all over it and some of the branches were already starting to fall off. At least it wasn’t rotting, that was the one good thing about it. There was a small letter attached to the tree trunk, and it was pinned to the tree trunk with an axe. I was going to read it, but it had a confidential stamp so I hesitated to even try.

“They say ahtat summer…summer isn’t going to last forever?”
This summer was lasting forever. But I was going to remember this one forever.

July 14th +437 words

She clung to a piece of driftwood, praying for daylight. She’d been sleeping for hours and hours and sleeping on the edge of the boat, just sort of battling it out for survival. “After all, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” I muttered to myself. Then something startled me. I woke up in shock, blinking my eyes to the bright sun. It seemed like forever since I went to sleep. Or was it, really? Some people say that sleep actually provides rest and restoration. But then, she checked the SWC Main Cabin. The new daily was all about sleep. “Dfdshfah I don’t sleep,” she thought. Her second thought right after was “Sleep? Who needs sleep?” But in reality, she knew sleep was actually quite important for you because it helps you grow and second because it helps restore your memory after a very long day. She blinked her eyes again to the bright sunlight, and sat up straight in the boat. What should she do today? She wondered and looked around in the little tiny boat. She was in a boat. With a sail, and with very minimal supplies around, and with just the ocean surrounding her. That was slightly boring. Hm. This was troublesome. Maybe she could eat something for breakfast? That was step one. Step two: find out where we were going exactly. She looked up at the sky. The sun was peaking out of the sky finally. That meant that the sun was finally appearing! She couldn’t wait to start her day because it had been nighttime all along, and she’d been sleeping forever. “Sleep…” she moaned, “is really the essence of time.” It wasn’t, though. And why was she even getting sleepy when it was only around ten am in the morning? She wondered that herself, but then realized she actually didn’t get good sleep last night so there was that…darn it. She needed a better sleep schedule.

Day 3: 10:46 pm

GO TO SLEEP!!! That was the newest announcement. “I’m not really tired-” I yawned, my eyelids clearly drooping and me currently flopping down in the chair. Everyone turned to stare at me. “Uh, yeah, you clearly are?” I continued to stare at everyone. “I don’t think this is past my bedtime? Is this past my bedtime?” Finally, my mom called it. Gently, she told me, “You should probably get to bed.” Sighing (it was a rather dejected sigh because I really didn’t want to go to bed) I dragged myself up the staircase and into bed. But for some odd reason, it was a long, long time before I could go to sleep.

July 15th +501 words
Notes: (doesn't count for points since it was late but my comment was posted at exactly 5:00 (12 UTC) and was still late </33 anyway still counts towards my word goal.)
I found something to see. But what was it. I squinted and tried to look to see what it was..it couldn’t be, it couldn’t be? I gasped at the sight-it looked like a plant! It wasn’t there a second ago, yet it was there now for some reason. Perhaps somebody had initially put it there by accident? It looked pretty far from offshore, though, and it looked like it had been stranded since a long time ago. For a second, I felt pretty sorry for it, and a torrent of pity flew through me and through my head for a second. Ignore it, I thought. All it really needed was sunlight and water, after all. Then it would somehow miraculously grow into a bigger plant that way. I wasn’t sure. The plant had really big leaves. It had long ones that were protruding and crossing from each other, and they were also kind of shiny. Shiny! That was maybe the correct inspiration I needed to start on something. Also, the daylight was shining on the plant so that it hit it just right-so that the dewdrops were forming a little bit on the green leaves, just so in the morning air. It was perfect. Perfect! I adjusted it a tiny bit and relaxed. Now that was really perfect. The perfect plant to grow in the area. But for some reason it was moving a bit. I squinted and tried to see. Yes, indeed it was! It was moving to the left and to the right as if it had nothing else better to do. This was very intriguing and I couldn’t think of anything else to do. Well, if nothing else, the plant had better growth and stamina, right? Or promote better growth and stamina. The plant smiled back at me, but then it did the strangest thing. It twirled and swirled a bit, to the left and then to the right. I couldn’t believe my eyes at what was happening, and then it emitted a sort of glow to it, as it unfurled it’s leaves. It seemed healthier for a second. Sort of healthier in the sense that it had better nutrition and that it had better leaves. I smiled while looking at the plant and then suddenly watering it some more. It deserved that sort of love. But then, something else happened. Somebody stormed in. “What are you doing?” They gasped. “I’m watering a plant. You know, the cycle of photosynthesis etc.” “But you can’t simply just do that the leaves will get dirty and dusty, they’ll wither up and dry.” Yes, yes, I know that,” I snapped impatiently.” I know how things like this work. “But just put an okay amount maybe?” “I made sure to double check, though,” I reminded the person. “I put an okay amount of water in, so it doesn’t, you know, get overwatered and droopy/something like that.”

The last thing I remember is the plant waving at me in the wind.

July 16th +558 words
I don’t like talking about myself. True fact. Why talk about yourself when there are a thousand other things you could talk about? It seems really selfish to talk about yourself-like it makes other people just actually pay attention to you, have their eyes focused on you, everything about you. I don’t really understand that part of it. But why talk about yourself anyway?

So this is going to be sort of an introduction to me. So I’m Rain, as you may know, and this is going to be about a time in my Scratch journey. Spoiler alert!: This is going to be about an embarrassing moment, nevertheless. Why I picked impersonation: because, honestly, introverts are really easy people to target as people to just go around and impersonate. I could have picked the moment when I joined Scratch, or I could have picked maybe when my project got 100 views. But that’s not what I picked, and that’s not what this is even going to be about. Clearly, there were different things in store for me. There’s a lot of different times I can think about because I’ve been on Scratch for about maybe two or three years now, but one I can think of is when I was being impersonated. That was a really hard time for me because as a person, it felt just well, it felt depressing to have someone know about that. It felt like I was being sort of exposed. Which wasn’t nice. But in the end, it turned out good-because there were people there to help me. And it turns out that in the end, maybe I helped other people too? Maybe in the end it all works out.I don’t really know. It’s been a while since that moment in time. It’s been two whole years, and I keep thinking “Well Rain you haven’t done much as a person since two years ago.” But maybe I have. When we, as humans, enter the world, what we say, what we do, makes a difference in everyone’s life. We leave a legacy, a story to be told. And maybe that’s what’s really important. And now when I think back to that moment, I think about how I have grown and changed-really in insignificant ways since that time, but they seem minuscule to me really. It doesn’t seem like yesterday to me, but it seems like something that if I could have repeated I wouldn’t have. It just seems, well, I don’t want to say, it seems cliche, or maybe childish, but it seems like sort of corny. Really. Going on an account that you deleted on your birthday two years ago. It’s just sort of unrealistic, and since so many things have happened since then (and for one I am glad I deleted that account) I just want to say that overall, maybe I’m just glad. Glad for everything that happened and could happen. Glad for all the opportunities I have/and could have/and didn’t waste.


*Looks at the clock*

Oh hooray I’m done talking about myself! That was really exhausting and painful, I didn’t want to talk about myself any longer, any longer and I might have burst or done something else. Anyway got to run now probably to write something else, but hopefully you liked this long rant goodbye

July 17th +769 words




He didn’t want to go out on such a night but it was his duty. He should probably go out, right? He looked at the clock. He only had about ten minutes to kill. Before everything was lost. It was actually quite snowed in here, and there wasn’t anything-wait, was that a tornado warning? Indeed it was, it was a tornado warning. He shivered inside, feeling quite cold and dreary. “I-it, I just couldn’t-he stuttered to himself. He couldn’t bear the thought of taking it one step even further. “What happened?” he asked, but then the door slammed shut behind him, causing everything to rattle and shake. It was quite a cozy cabin where they were at-the fire was burning bright and everything seemed maybe falsely pleasant. Maybe a tad too pleasant. “Well we were just about to get things settled-” someone stated. “Yeah we were, we were doing everything by the fireplace, we were even cooking I think. And doing chores. Milking. There was a warning though.” Warning for what? But then suddenly, realization hit me at what the warning was for. Oh. It was the snow warning. I should have known, really. We were snowed in. “So, if we’re completely snowed in, does that mean-” “Yes.” A voice spoke from the dark corner of the room. “Really it does.” “Who are you?” I jumped in worry but I jumped, just because-well, just because I was slightly scared. There were shadows lighting up everywhere around the room, and inside I could even sort of hear shadows. Or a voice. *Seriously, you have got to get a move on* I muttered to myself. I’m getting delirious or something because I’m starting to hear voices. I think that’s only crazy people. The voice spoke again. “Hm. You’re not crazy though, look right in front of you, I’m right here.” I squinted in the cabin to try to see better. Was somebody there talking to me? Because if they were I really couldn’t see properly. “Um.” I laughed. “You’re going to have to do better than that? Say something maybe? “Well then look in front of you.” I opened my eyes wider. Now that she mentioned it, I could see her. “Yes, yes. Come, child.” This was getting ridiculous. The old woman was sitting on her rocker, and smiling. “Been a long time since I’ve witnessed something like a storm here.” She stared at the fireplace. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, right?” Curiosity pulled at me/I mean, curiosity killed the cat. “Well what else do you want me to say? We’re snowed in and stuck here for who knows how long. We don’t have power, we don’t have electricity. Things look pretty bad for us. Listen. I coughed and looked back at her. “Well since I’m stuck here I’ll get you a drink,” I offered. I poured a cup of hot cocoa and gave it to her. She took it and smiled. “Thanks. You are a sweet boy.” A faraway glance in her eyes told me she was reminiscing about something, but I couldn’t quite tell what it was. Perhaps it was her childhood, or her long-gone eras. The end was almost here, I could tell it from the way that the floorboards were cracking ever so slightly and the way that even I was panicked just from staying in here, just needing somewhere to hide and a safe place to stay. To have shelter, for once. I looked down at my feet. Surely, the best thing to do right now was just to wait this entire storm out. It was all fun and games, sure, but right now, the weather looked quite bleak and it looked like the storm was never going to pass, so right now the best thing to do was to wait and stay put until safety arrived. Or if it arrived. It was getting late now, and the lady spoke quite softly. “You should get to sleep now, son.” I nodded, because it was getting quite late indeed and I needed to get to bed. I spotted a small cot in the corner, but the problem was that it only had a tarp covering and it had wires around it, so it didn’t provide much help. I’m not really sure if it would provide much safety, either, because it didn’t have a blanket over it. I got into the bed anyways despite my many doubts, and without realizing it I drifted off to sleep in a moments’ time. He didn’t want to go out on such a night but it was his duty.


Weeklies
weekly 2 +2592 words

Part 1 +910 words


Microphone has now started. Hosts have now entered the room.
*testing, testing, is this mic on?* Screech, feedback. Oh good, it’s on. Just checking!
Shuffling paper, shuffling paper. Hm. There’s a lot going on in the world, right?
Hi, I’m Rain, your host, and I’m here to report to you on news around the world! So news around the world. There’s a lot going around the world. That’s for sure. A lot of things have been happening in the current day/time/year. But some things that have been happening recently are:


NEWS!!
-corona virus is still happening.
There is concern about this, as it has been over two years already.
There are also different strains of the virus now, and they’re testing different people, the five and under vaccine is now approved so they can get it-as they are the last age group to be able to get it.
Side notes: adult vaccines, older teenagers, 12-15 and 5-11 year old vaccines were also approved earlier, but they were approved in 2021.
-climate change continues to affect the world and the government, causing concern around the world.
-Ice caps are melting.
-Technoblade has died from stage four cancer at age 23.
-Midterm election year (2022, halfway through the president’s term.)
-Differential political views over the state of the union.
-Crisis in Ukraine is still going on after five months.
-Lots of people are dying because of the crisis in Ukraine.
-Gun laws are finally being approved.
-Abortion is finally being taken into consideration (I think it was, Congress made a decision about it)
-It is the summer so it is more than halfway through 2022
-School year is approaching in less than a month
-Weather has been relatively hot recently
-The buck moon which is a supermoon is coming up soon.
- 4th of July was last week causing a lot of veterans/dogs to become scaredish
-Debated topics recently
-Basketball season has officially ended and the next one to start is football in the fall.


Alright so I can’t really think about anything else, so I’m just going to stop writing, but that’s about all the currentish news I have for you right now! At the moment I’m writing this. *Flips through more pages* *Flips again* You know, paying attention to your local news is very important, because then you get a sense of what it is like for other people as well, so it’s really good to be aware in general. Or just generally make sure that you stay informed at all times, make sure you’re near somebody or someone who can tell you something or give you information.





The reporter tilts her head to the side in her chair curiously. “Are you sure that’s all the news you have for me, Rain?” I cough nervously. “Well, yeah. You said you wanted current events. That’s the current events in the world.” A bright spotlight shines down on us, and I can hear all the different people talking on the radio. Or maybe not.
Static crackles and then jumpstarts, and then now I can hear all the current events. “Earlier today, there was…” I couldn’t bother to hear the rest of it because I walked away. “Crackle” there was an earthquake that hit earlier today. You know what to do, right? “Grab all of your emergency supplies. You’ll need them straightaway. The thing I first thought when I heard that announcement was “geez.” The second thing was. “I’m dead meat.” Because if there was an earthquake coming…. I might as well be dead myself. I panicked and ran inside the basement, into a quiet little storm shelter we had built especially for situations like this. It was really dark inside and it didn’t seem to be ominous really at all. “Happy here?” “Well sort of.” I still needed-food and water. But I could hear the earthquake getting closer and closer, and it wasn’t making me feel any happier about it. It was just making me feel more anxious about the fact. “Um I think I’m going to go now, “ I panted, and then I got out of the cellar. I was, in fact, lighthearted as could be. I couldn’t feel the earthquake tremors anymore. I couldn’t even find the epicenter of where it was supposed to be. It wasn’t a nine, I don’t think, but I also don’t think it was a seven. So in the middle. A five? Perhaps. It made me think a little bit. Current events. I guess the next big earthquake is not going to come in the next hundred years. But it was only 2022. A lot of things could happen in one year. Just you wait and see. I closed my eyes to the ashen dust, trying to see something I couldn’t quite see. I recalled all the things, all the current events that were there.


Oh, it’s me again, Rain, reporting on the current events.
You were wondering about the current events, right? Well, I’m going to report on them, at least I think I’m going to report on them. That’s a list of all the things in the world that are currently affecting us at the moment. There’s a lot of things happening right now in our society that are affecting the way we live and shaping our Earth. It’s happening right as we speak. And now that my reporting job is done-I guess I will go now. Rain out! *drops paper*







Part 2 +864 words


Only good things about Scratch, here we go! I know this is going to be hard. Because there’s been a lot of controversy and a lot of bad things and negativity swirling around Scratch, trolls, deleted accounts, and bans/art theft happening recently in Scratch. Studio update was really something. People blame the ST. But anyways, moving on. Aside from all of that, Scratch is actually a really fun place to be! You can learn to code, which is always good for both your mental and your emotional self. You can learn a lot about science and math when you’re on Scratch, and you can also maybe make friends. That’s always fun. A fun thing to do when you’re on Scratch is use Scratch emojis because they’re embedded into the website, so it’s pretty fun to do when you’re just talking to someone or having a normal conversation. Another good thing! Scratch is 15, which means next year it’s turning 16! The big 16 yay. Another good thing about Scratch is that you get to interact and create things. Unlike other websites, you get to be creative when you’re using Scratch, which is always fun to do. And you also get to create studios and make thumbnails for the studios, which is good because that increases your flexibility with graphic designing. Bios are common in Scratch (ack this was debated too) but it is good because then you get to tell people about yourself. By doing that you get to express more of yourself, you get to put yourself out there, and although this is more of the artsy side, it really does show a lot about you. If there were actually no bios, then there would be maybe no users at all. (in my opinion anyway.) You get to decorate your bio with Scratch symbols and things like that, (so that’s fun.) Profile pictures you can either make yourself or have someone make it for you. Some users change it all the time and some don’t. They do say a lot about you, though, so make sure you pick a good one depending on current season of life etc. Which brings me to my next topic! The forums. So the forums. Kinda a messy place but still worth talking about. There’s a lot of topics in the forums, and there’s a lot of Scratchers there. The forums are actually one of the better places on Scratch in my opinion because although there’s arguments, there’s not really any drama despite the comments on the main website. You can also close topics, which is helpful when a situation gets out of hand. Another good thing about the forums is that you can create your own personalized signature, which shows up on every forum post you make. That’s actually good because it lets people know who you are. You can also report a post, which is good because if people are being negative it should be reported, which is why the “report” button is there and also on people’s profiles. The next thing is the 60 second rule. So when you are a New Scratcher, or have just joined, you have the 120 second rule aka two minutes between each forum post. This is good (although it may make some people mad because it prohibits them from doing certain things on Scratch.) Regular Scratchers have the 60 second rule, meaning you have to wait 60 seconds-one minute, in between each forum post. If I wanted to post something after I just said, “Okay” then I wouldn’t be able to because of the rule. The ST, however, doesn’t have any rule, they get to post however many forum posts they want. This is because they do actual site moderation and they get to decide to close topics and sticky posts etc. on the forums. Next– bump. People say bump a lot on the forums. This is because when a topic is too long or it gets buried too deep, then you have to bump it back up. This is good because it allows more users to see the forum post. And that’s about it for the forums (I think.)

Next! The Scratch Wiki. I’m not a wikian and never will be. But I do look at the wiki sometimes. The wiki is where you can find cool things about Scratch’s history and where you can find facts about Scratch. It’s very, very similar to Google’s Wikipedia. I like how you can see Scratch users on there and some Scratchers even have their own pages on the wiki, which is good because then you can “talk” on the wiki. And you can also see facts about Scratchers, different current events that are going to be happening on Scratch, etc. on the wiki, which is good because it keeps you updated. (And Scratch 2.0, you can see that as well.) Also, you can request an account at your service on the top home button.

Other things that I did not cover about Scratch but ran out of time:
-home page of Scratch
-comments of Scratch *mentioned
-messages


I think that covers basically everything about Scratch, until next time!


Part 3: +584 words

Did you know that she was putting her hand behind her back during dinner tonight? That was the newest announcement. “Yeah, that was so cliche.” All the ladies were currently gossiping about what they did-or didn’t-like about the people. “And then did you see what happened after that?” “She literally tripped and almost fell during dinner.” One or two of them started to snicker. “I don’t wish I was her.” They were talking in extremely hushed tones so as to not convey any hurtful messages across and so that the actual person wouldn’t hear what they were saying. “I couldn’t believe that he told her that it was off.” Everyone’s jaws dropped in the room. “Wait, what?” “Yeah, they’re breaking up. But, they did it in an informal way, she smacked him on the head right after-which is so unromantic.” Everyone in the room started laughing uproariously. “Geez,” one person said, and another wiped the tears streaming down her face. “Honestly I don’t think I could go with that. “The mayor, well, he said he would resign but then there was a criminal break-in I think it was last Friday. Not sure if there was police action.” One person scoffed. “The mayor is honestly just a scaredy-cat. If he bothered to listen to any of our opinions, then sure I’d take it. But running away from your own job? Really? That’s not mature or sensible at all.” This led to more laughter and then everyone started whispering and making punny jokes about how THEY wished that they were in that position. Or not, because they actually didn’t wish that. “Wait, wait guys! You didn’t hear the latest gossip!” I interrupted them all with a firm nod. “We’re in the middle of talking, right, and we’ve heard some gossip but not all. This is going to be really juicy.” I smiled really brightly. “So I heard that Abby is completely naive but then she signed up for something and doesn’t know what she’s getting into-also that she’s hosting a talent show.” Everybody’s voices dropped. A talent show? “What good can come from that?” All the ladies inquired. “Nothing good, that’s for sure.” “No but look, we can get something out of this. At least I think so.” I showed them the mapped plan that I had out that was extremely, extremely detailed. “See?” “Oh, and apparently, Daniel has started giving people false money. It’s the talk of the town.” Counterfeit money was never good, but I mean, that’s what he was doing. Not the best way to run your store, but that was just my opinion. “I always thought he was honest!” “Well, never judge a book by its cover,” I replied grimly. “Never do.” The other news that was swirling around town was that Jennifer had finally finished eating TEN hot dogs in one sitting at the annual eating contest, which was insane. But unfortunately, her other competitor beat her to it and rang the bell just as she was going to, leaving her in shock. “I feel like this is all made up-” one person started to tell me. “No honestly I’m not making all this stuff up, it really happened this past week,” I told them, laughing. “And it’s not that laughable when you think about it. I mean, just think about how they must have felt when they were doing it!” The ladies glanced at each other again, and instead what they did was silently, silently nod at each other.


Part 4 +227 words


The doorbell rang, and it was so loud in my ear, I almost thought that it would explode, but luckily for me it didn’t. I sighed and walked up to the doorway. So who was it now? I opened the door nervously and tried to plaster on a fake smile that I used for guests only because it was good etiquette and also I’d been taught to do that. “Hello, you wanted to tell me?” I started.

Then the next thing that landed in my lap on the doorstep- the person flew out of my premises straight away which made me really confused. Maybe they were scared or maybe they were sent just to deliver the message. Either way, they only delivered just the message.


It simply read


You’re invited!
Ana’s birthday party
She is turning 11!
10 am-1pm
Oak Ridge Park
(Compliementary) Drinks and appetizers will be served!
RSVP by September 17th to jolie1289@gmail.com


The invite looked pretty well-formatted, it had swirls and a birthday cake on it as well, and it provided an email address too. I just had to decided whether to go or not. I felt like I should go, and so later that day, I went to the shopping mall, and collected all of my things, as a party guest to make sure I had the perfect gifts for her.

total word count +2592 words

weekly 3 +4234 words

part 1: +901 words
Pretend. That’s what they were telling me to do. “Just fit in already!” I told myself, trying to do so while I was at it. I looked inside the mirror and tried to do what society was expecting me to do. What I would have wanted myself to do. Just be normal, I thought to myself. Ragged breaths. In. Out. Alright, we can do this, right? We can do this, we just have to you know, pretend to be normal. I straightened my hair a tad bit and then fluffed it out. Maybe that would help me look better? Oh, by the way, I forgot to tell you. My name is Rosaline, and I’m twelve years old. Today, it was my birthday, and I if I was expecting something amazing-ha! I do every year, which wouldn’t be a surprise if it weren’t for everything that was currently happening. I concur. Where was I at…I’m losing my train of thought- anyway, so I was um, I was standing in front of the mirror. And that day, something so magical happened, it would change my life forever.

Now, I know exactly what you’re thinking by this point. Blah, blah blah Rosaline gets powers and then moves on with her life, The End. Bleep! Rosaline, where are you? “Oh, I’m over here-”

That’s not really the point of the story. The point is that we have to figure out her backstory first. So there’s more to her than meets the eye, obviously. She was born to a family and was orphaned at an extremely young age, which overall just terrorized her and then so in the years following what she did was hide out and attempt to work in the factories. Which didn’t give her much paying wage, but hey, it was worth it. Hiding out in the city wasn’t fun for her most days. It was smoky, dusty, and dirty and sometimes smelled like wet socks. Also, the other kids sometimes made fun of her while they were doing their games because of the way she looked. They mocked her and teased her on her hair because it was dirty blonde, and they teased her because she was poor as well. The worst part is that she could never find the courage to stand up to them. Sometimes she would want to fight back, but other days she just couldn’t. She just would want to hide somewhere where nobody could find her in a silent, secret place. Oh, she also had two siblings. They were really nice, but kinda annoying too, as siblings usually are. People always say “siblings are kindred spirits” but lately, Rosaline had the rights to object that. What type of people were these, anyway? They lived in the apartment with her together, and just generally lived life together. She couldn’t really attend school (because she was poor) so she ended up teaching herself. Self teaching was hard, that was for certain. She had to stay up super late at night, and she also had to spend days/nights working on things, but that’s besides the point. The point is. Thats the end of the backstory, and hope you enjoyed listening-



Rosaline was here again…but this time, she was here to overall show her powers. She stared into the mirror, willing it to show her powers. She had finally gotten what she wanted overall. Additionally, she consumed it all, soaking in to the spotlight-the fans, and the crowd- *pause button* wait, Rosaline isn’t famous.* yeah, I know. But, she got the power of flying. “Flying!!!” Flying is usually something in superhero movies or something that you see televised, or something that’s just overall supernatural because people know that regular humans could never do that in real life. But not Rosaline. She could finally fly! She smashed through the broken mirror, and all the sudden, she was blinded by a bright light.


Blinking, she wondered where she was. It looked like she was floating somewhere, into a space portal? Or above the city. Wait. She blinked. She was in her old city! But why would she have been brought here? She watched all the cars go by, and then felt a sudden sense of nostalgia pang her. Memories. They really sometimes do pass you by. She wasn’t sure if it was a dream, or if it was something else that she needed to see…but all of the sudden, she realized that maybe she was being shown this because she had to relearn what it was like to be in the city. To work. And to also remember to stand up for herself when the times were tough. She hovered some more over the city, and then flew past it and up. But she paused a little. She wondered why society would let you do that. Let you live into the expectations with all the lies like “be the perfect person” or “let’s compare you now to” It was ridiculous, she thought, and temporarily she forgot that she was actually still flying in the air. Huh. If they can do it, so can I. “Do what, Rosaline?” Well, live life, of course, if billions of other people in the world can do it, so can a twelve-year-old girl.” But then Rosaline looked back at the smashed glass. At herself. Maybe that’s not all there was to it. Perhaps she had to change.

part 2: +1621 words

What is the origin of your magic?


What Rosaline knew was that she could fly. She definitely could fly. But she didn’t know where her magic had originally come from. That was the problem. She thought and pondered about it for hours on end. So it had all started when she smashed the glass, when she stared into the mirror. Maybe she just shouldn’t look at mirrors anymore? But then thinking about it, finally realizing the truth, she noticed that her magic had also come in contact when she had met a wizard. Maybe the wizard had given her the magic to do things! Huh. That actually made sense for once. But the wizard couldn’t have done it when she was looking. Unless they were actually a fake one.


What is an important symbol of your world?

Rosaline knows what she wants, and she knows how she’s going to get it-she’s going to fly and she’s in another world, so she’s going to either use the mirror as a portal or just fly in general. One way to accomplish this is to overall just not pretend. Rosaline thinks that she has to be perfect and that she has to pretend all the time to just fit in to society, but she has to come to terms with that people love her just the way she is, and nobody would trade her for anything other than herself. Another common theme in this is the mirror. Obviously, it plays a very big part in the story-it tells a story beyond itself. It symbolizes a lot of things-what Rosaline’s current life stage is, what she’s going through, and what she needs to do to keep moving in her own journey to keep going. In the portal, they face many things, magical journeys, including Rosaline’s own city. This reminds her of her past. So memories, mirrors, etc. and basically reflection of oneself are vitally important in the world of Rosaline.



How is the education system in your world? What do your characters learn (or hypothetically would learn?)


Rosaline actually doesn’t have education because she comes from a poor family. That’s the sad backstory. Of course, her being sorta uneducated makes the entire story more interesting because you want to find out more about her. Why did her parents die? Why is she just now living by herself after years and years of turmoil? Etc. Etc. Rosaline, who ended up living in the streets, did end up teaching herself, and so was self-taught. In the story, we find her as a twelve year old girl. In the US, that would translate to a sixth grader or someone who is going into seventh grade. (This is middle school, by the way.) However, since Rosaline didn’t receive proper education and training, and was self-taught, this would probably be somewhere in elementary school or primary school in some countries. It does not, however, mention in the story what Rosaline could or could not read on garbage cans or on signs on the street, nor what she could decipher using mental math.


What are the laws of your world, specifically about magic? Punishments?


The laws are fairly just, but also right. In this world (well, we haven’t finished the story yet! We have not come to a conclusion, but we eventually will.) Assuming that the world is set in ancient days, and is very, very protected. Nobody dares step in the realm of this place, because a) it’s very unsafe and b) it’s a tad risky. The laws-practitioners aka the government of this place, has set a list of laws there for you to read. The laws are that you can’t produce random magic. Out of hand magic is strictly forbidden. Punishments for doing so are either getting trapped into a cage (for hundreds of years.) or getting thrown in a dungeon. There are severe consequences for every action, and in this kingdom, that’s what happens with reckless magic.



What are the limitations of your world’s magic?

Well, first of all, Rosaline can’t access the time portal. She has gotten into the portal in the first part of the story, but she can’t find a way out. This is a hazardous disaster, because if she can’t find a way out, then maybe things will start collapsing on her. This is very, very problematic for her, as she doesn’t know what to do or where to go, etc. But she only has about thirty minutes left, so she starts to panic. It doesn’t mention if she asks for help, or if she ever receives help from people like characters, but my guess is that she ended up asking fantastical characters in the story for help. They are probably mystical creatures sent, for help to make sure that Rosaline’s magic-of flying-grows stronger in and of itself. And of course, Rosaline can’t use her magic outside of the world.


Compared to our modern society, what do the characters do differently in your world, now that magic is incorporated?

Rosaline lives in a city, that’s for sure. She has lived in it for most of her childhood, and that means that she’s very familiar with it. That’s why it showed up in her memories and also when she ended up portaling to a very different place. Although there is only one character (at the moment) who is a protagonist, she produces a lot of magic. In the beginning of the story, she unleashes a lot of magic, and that shows that Rosaline has magic, but it’s more of the ancient kind of magic than the modern kind, because it is flying. Noted: We also notice that she grows suddenly unsure of herself from here to there, which means that her self-esteem is being lowered throughout the story because of peer pressure.

What are some slang terms or other words used in your world that are related to magic?

There aren’t really many at the moment, that I’ve used anyway. She mostly just flies off, but if there would be one it would perhaps be “take me higher!” or “Touch the sky” would be a couple of slang words, primarily because they’re integrated and related to flying. Another one I can think of would be “Up, up, and away!” but unfortunately that’s kind of corny so I’m not going to put that down, only the first two I’m going to say are legible for her to use as catchphrases. And that’s about it, but she could also say, “Never fear, help is here!” or “I’m on the run!” In the world, she doesn’t really say anything much. She’s kind of just. There. Quiet, still, doesn’t talk much, but she also has her own type of personality.


What are some noteworthy examples of problems (in your world) that characters solved with magic?

Some problems-well, there are actually many, many problems in the world of Rosaline. I would like to say that she solved them all herself and got along with her life perfectly fine, but that’s not how it ended up. That’s not even the worst-case scenario! She did a lot of things with her life. But there were many roadbumps and many roadblocks. Some things I would say that were problems in her life are: she can’t control the magic that she does have, and if she does, it gets slightly out of hand and out of her own control. She also has control issues and sort of anger issues with herself, which means that she might at times lash out at other people incidentally, or not on purpose. This could be good or it could be bad depending on the situation or where you could put her.


Describe the popular infrastructure in your world.

In the world, there isn’t any gravity to hold anything down, so there isn’t any solid things, no furniture, and definitely no objects just lying there. When Rosaline portals through, she has no idea what she’s going to expect, after all, this is all new to her. She is new to all of this, plus, she has just attained new powers! What’s a girl to do? What I imagine it as is sort of an empty place, where she can just sort of empty her thoughts and go places. Where she can revisit old memories and come back to it anytime she would like. (And, of course, there’s the usual stuff in the world, like creatures and wild animals there. But Rosaline defeats them all with her powers, of course-and her indomitable flying skills. They’re amazing!


How is magic viewed in your world (ie. as a boring normal, as a fascinating element of their life, or as a curse on society etc.)?

Magic. So it’s a very, very debated topic, as one knows. It has it’s upsides when one receives power-the more power received, the more power one must give. You can choose whether to use your magic either for good or for bad, but it’s really up to you. That’s why it’s ultimately your decision. Some people consume magic so much, that they obsess over their magic. That would be like overusing your own magic. In my world, it’s sort of viewed as a more fascinating element of life. I mean, people know magic isn’t real. But some people find magic and fantasy fascinating, which is why fantasy books exist and which is why fantasy exists in the first place, which is why magic is just fascinating in the first place. And in Rosaline’s world, she would probably say that magic is just normal for her, because flying for her would be like-well, it would be practically normal, she could do that any day and it would feel normal!


part 3: +1713 words

Continuation from where we had originally started. Huh. If they can do it, so can I. “Do what, Rosaline?” Well, live life, of course, if billions of other people in the world can do it, so can a twelve-year-old girl.” But then Rosaline looked back at the smashed glass. At herself. Maybe that’s not all there was to it. Perhaps she had to change. Rosaline walked around the area, where there were little patches of grass and areas where she could just stop and see. But wait. Where was she? It was…eternally hot outside. It was dry and humid, and it didn’t look like she was in the-wait. Was she in the desert? She was in the desert! Rosaline blinked into the hot heat, staring face to face with the sun. “I’ve got it, I’ve got it! She declared loudly. But then, she ran into someone. It was another person, so to speak. It was hard for her not to say anything, or not to stutter while speaking because she had been so used to doing actually both while doing so. But because she was shy/shy ish, she didn’t want to open up. “Who are you?” she asked, curiously. The person was dressed rather elegantly, and looked as if they were on the move. They also had a hunting knife, along with some magical elements there in order to help them survive out in the wilderness. “I’m Aira,” she says gently. “I’ve come a long way since the journey-” I looked at her facial expression. She actually did look tired-perspiration was dripping slowly down her face and she seemed to be quite exhausted. “How long have you been walking?” I asked her, curious. “About maybe five hundred miles.” FIVE HUNDRED miles? I almost collapsed thinking about the irony of it all. I was kind of surprised she didn’t tell me anything else besides five hundred miles. “Uh, are you okay?” I asked, because her face was starting to grow red ish. Perhaps she was going to keel over from not having enough to eat or drink for three days. Gasping, Aira told me, “No- I’m fine.” I glanced back at the sun and then back at her. “You should sit down.” I pointed to a nearby rock formation. “That’s a place for you to sit down.” Despite the hot heat, I really did believe that we could become friends. I held out my hand. “So, how did you get your powers? I asked, curious. “Oh, they kicked in about a week ago. My parents, of course, were shocked. But they didn’t approve of powers. They didn’t even like the fact of magic being used in the household-it was highly disapproved where I’m from. Everybody shamed me from even using magic. Her magic, of course, was teleportation. “So did you try to hide it due to embarrassment?” I asked, genuinely curious some more. She laughed. “Yeah, I did. But then I realized that actually, I didn’t have to. All I wanted to do was to just be myself for once. And it’s nice to finally have a friend.” Her eyes sparkled. “Like you, right?” The night air settled and the desert winds blew some more, which only kicked up more dust and hot air. “Like me.”


Aira and I were sitting together, of course, on the rock. We were sleeping and sound asleep-in the little tent. But then all of the sudden, something jolted us awake. It was a loud sound and it shouldn’t have startled both of us, but it actually did. “Ahhhh!” I screamed. (that was sort of childish. Rosaline, get yourself together.) I scrambled out of the tent. “What’s happening-” I panted. I flew out of the tent to see what was happening to us. Except in my case, I only flew exactly three inches above the ground, which was indeed good for me I assume. I wanted to fly higher, but that was extremely hard as I had a slight fear of heights. “We’re in the portal again.” We were in the portal again, the one I had originally summoned to smash the mirror in. It felt like instead of going forward, time was going backwards, so in the opposite direction. Wait, what happened since I woke up this morning? I was so confused. DId we just time travel? But we couldn’t have time traveled, because I used my flying powers to get into the portal, not-oh. I stared at Aira, openmouthed. “It was you,” I whispered. “You did that, didn’t you?” “She laughed, but it wasn’t a funny-ha-ha kind of laugh.” “What do you mean, I did that?” “Well, seeing as you have teleportation powers, it is very logical to think that you could have teleported us over to this dimension.” Loud noises started to screech behind us and the mirror continued to glow. “Not leaving until you tell me the answer.” I told her. “I want the truth.” It was true that she’d been acting pretty strange recently. The mirror was cracking in half, and parts of it continued to splice, causing an eminent glow to light up the portal. This caused everyone in the portal-which was me and Aira, to become quite scared. Finally, she relented. “Yes, I did use my teleporation power. In case you were wondering, I teleported us to the past. But it was supposed to be good. I only wanted to impress you. You were always one of my idols, someone that I looked up to, and someone that I wanted to be friends with. I? Her idol? I almost laughed. I was kind of not the best idol for someone to have. I was just Rosaline, after all. Nothing special. I had just gotten flying powers less than two weeks ago, plus I just wanted to sort of be myself for once. “I’m not the best person you should ask.” I stated. “I can barely do anything myself.” Internally, I wished I didn’t have to pretend everything all the time. Pretend to be society’s perfect model. But I smiled at her and then told her, “let’s get out of here together.” Together, we touched the portal button….
But.


Only one thing remained. We couldn’t make it out of the portal. It was jammed somehow. “What’s happening?!” Aira gasped, pulling at the strings. I stammered a little bit. “Uh, I don’t know, really, try again maybe?” I did-Aira yanked at it some more, trying the best that she could to make it out of the portal. Again, the creatures seemed to be surrounding us bit by bit. I grew more and more anxious. “Hey I don’t think we have that much time left,” I warned Aira. A knot grew in my stomach and I seemed more anxious than I had a second ago. How in the world were we going to make it out of the portal, anyways? But then, something happened that would change my life forever. The mirror. My mind was now released and then opened to the worlds beyond, and just like that, once I touched the frame of the mirror with my fingertip, the portal was opened. I shrieked once, and then twice as the mirror shone back at me. I realized the way out…was the way in. What a coincidence. It had been quite a journey. Aira waved at me. Before I flew out, I asked her, “Well, I guess this is the end, then.” I stood at the edge of the portal, about to fly off with all the swirling colors around me. Finishing everything. Being who I was about to become. Or just becoming in the first place. Aira looked sad to see me go, but she finally gave a sad smile. “Yeah. It was really nice being there with you.” “Or what?” I asked. “Do you have to leave me behind?” she asked, a look of sorrow crossing her face. I knew that she wished that she didn’t have to be left behind. After all, it would be like she would be yet another stepping stone in my story. But in reality, she wasn’t. She was my friend. One more thing-that I actually forgot to mention- Right before I hit the eject button, we hugged. Then, I actually hit it and touched the mirror.

We are back where we started. I flew back to the same place. Feeling everything in myself, I touched my hair, my legs, and even my face and arms to double check that I was really, truly the same person I was before I started this crazy, wild journey. I had learned so much, not only about myself, but about others as well. We were the same person. I was the same person. I flew back down…to the mirror, and landed, just like that. It seemed kind of perfect for a time like that. And I looked in the mirror again. It looked cracked a little bit, but also still shiny. I didn’t have to pretend anymore. I didn’t have to do anything that was beyond what I could do or even imagine or believe. Because I knew that I would always be Rosaline. I thought of everything that had happened. The city. The magic that I had attained, the friends that I had slowly made over time. It seemd perfect. It seemed almost magical. And now as I was standing there, in front of a blank mirror, I thought….maybe the impossible could happen. Maybe it could be a reality. I flew back down again, but this time, I remembered everything that I had learned, every single detail that had happened. Of course, I would always be Rosaline. Now, forever, and until the end of time. I wanted to soak it all in, and remember every single moment, every single second. Now I had received some materials that had somehow gotten into the mirror through the portal, and also a letter from Aira-she had made it through and also another mysterious friend. The mysterious friend had a new quest for me, that I didn’t know-

Make it to the beach by at least 10 am on Monday. Don’t be late.

If a twelve year old girl like me doesn’t need to pretend anymore, maybe, just maybe, anything is possible.

total word count: 4234 words

weekly 4

Word Wars

word war with @Sandy-Dunes 7/9/22 +279 words


The day I woke up, I didn’t know what was coming at me. I just knew it was something amazing. I waited and waited, but then it turned out to be something totally unexpected. It wasn’t something that I wanted or even needed. It was a fruit! I actually like fruit, in case you didn’t know that. I’m practically a fruit connoisseur. I specialize in all kinds of fruits, but the ones I dabble in the most are mostly berries, and also sometimes melons as well. Those ripen in the summer, and I like to get a small taste of them every single time they come down the aisle. There are also
Apples
Bananas
Strawberries
Blackberries
Raspberries

And others to name a few. I’m not going to bore you with the whole fruit dictionary thing again because it is terribly long and makes my eyes tired every single time I look at it. Horrible. Really. But every single time, I end up coming back to the same thing. Fruit. I like fruit a lot, but usually I just have it for snack, or just to munch or chew on when I need something in passing. Grapes are really good, and so are pineapples, by the way. Oranges mostly take their stand in the wintertime. By now I know most of the fruits there are in the world, lemons, limes, you name it. Blueberries are really good too. And that’s about it, as I have reached the end of my dictionary and I think I’ve peeled the rest of my fruit. I have to go now,
And I will always be
A fruit connoisseur

7/10/22 word war with @-RoseBunni (lost) +203 words

Yesterday was such a fun day. I thought about it as I was going to sleep. They say that the brain has two different places. There’s the place right before you go to sleep, and the place when you wake up. I love those types of places. Memory gets restored when you go to sleep, and I love that part of your body. But what I love the best, is that you get to dream. Dream about different things in your life…dream of the impossible. I like the impossible, but dreams are fairly…well, they’re fairly unreasonable.


Oh, you’re still here, and you want to know about yesterday, huh. So yesterday, I went to the park! It was really fun, we walked around all day. The park was pretty cool, we saw different people walking around with their dogs and we saw the playground as well. We also saw children playing on the swingset. It was all very fun indeed. I also went to eat ice cream right after, so I guess that was good, it was very delicious. It was vanilla ice cream, and it had a slight taste of sweetness in it but also melted down my shirt so I couldn’t reach it


7/12/22 word war with @_kittykay_ +158 words

I blinked. What was that in front of me? Was that. I squinted. Wait. It couldn’t be…I waited a couple more minutes just to double-check. My vision honestly wasn’t that great, but I could be seeing things. Tree root? Nope. Worst desires? I had a lot of them, to be honest. I had so many I could count on both hands, how many I had. It was just painstaking and overall very terrifying and terrible to the utmost extent, not to mention just very, very very upsetting for myself and for everyone else around me. Hmph. Well, I wasn’t going to take this lightly. I wasn’t going to. I was going to take this viral. I took a deep, shuddering breath and looked around the room, at the different things hanging around the area, and at everything I was about to abandon in a few minutes. In a few minutes, it would all be gone. Vanished. Disappeared.


Writing comp entry

The Amazing Encounter

Written February 2022 for creative writing club

The first thing I thought of when I crossed the border was how shocked I was. It was ten days into this journey, and I was sick and tired of having to clean up everybody’s mess. “Stop.” I commanded, halfheartedly fixing some other person’s straps. “Here you are, and that’s the rest of your money as well.” They smiled at me and handed me five dollar bills, which caught my eye. It was a five dollar bill. Not one, not two, but five. “Thank you,” I told her, hesitantly, and accepted the offer. I didn’t really know what to say. I was grateful for the offer, but I could also tell that even I was sick. I was sick…not because of the demeaning cold, (it was under thirty degrees and freezing out here, which made me think we were going to be stuck here for life) but because I was sick as well. I didn’t want to tell anybody because they’d think I would be a chicken for telling them. I was weak, and that would just embarrass me all over again. Of course, that was wrong of me to think that way. I couldn’t not tell them-because somebody had to know at some point, right? I thought about this some more. I knew I was sick. I had thrown up on the floor when I woke up last night-to hyperventilating. Even my teeth had grown to chattering, and my hands were turning an unnatural shade of blue. I don’t think this is normal for a fourteen year old person like me to be experiencing this. Maybe it was a form of hypothermia, or a cold. I heard you can also get visions or seeing double if you stay in the cold for too long. But that is besides the point. The point is that that day, I was sick. My legs and knees were trembling, and I was wobbling back and forth, wondering when in the world help would come, when I would find help. My teeth were chattering, and I couldn’t find a blanket or a safe place. The fire had been extinguished about an hour ago, leaving the cave to be seemingly empty, with no way out. So I was alone here, with no easy way out…no solution. “Hello?” “Hellooo” my voice echoed through the cave, bouncing off the walls. Nobody heard me, and I coughed out spasms of sickness, my fever overtaking me and throwing me off course. Somebody needed to know what was happening.
I waited for a millisecond more. Nobody seemed to be here, so I looked around to see if there was anybody there to see if anybody would possibly come. To rescue me, to give me help. “Ahh. My savior has arrived.” I smiled as somebody *finally!* came into the cave to rescue me. “Who are you?” I asked. The shadow passed over me, the light blinking faintly in the distance. Shading my eyes, I glimpsed no sight of anything. Nothing seemed to be there, so I sat up from my bed. “I’m sorry, you’re just going to have to wait-” Then I let out a gasp. “Wait, what?” The person, unknown name who cast a shadow, smiled at me and stepped a little closer. “Yes, it really is me. I have been here since many years ago, and so every year I do something a little different. But my name is unknown, because my mother and father never named me. “You mean you don’t have a name?” I asked the person who apparently was my savior. “Unfortunately I do not.” “Well, even though you don’t have a name, I need help. You see, I am sick,” I confessed. “I threw up yesterday and I think I might have hypothermia because I’m having trouble sleeping…”
It took a while to talk the anonymous person through my entire disease. Almost two hours, to be exact, but once I was done it felt really good. “Thank you for admitting what you felt. I know just the thing.”
“Start the fire.”
I warmed my hands near the fire. “You know those five dollar bills you got?” I nodded and then reached inside my pocket. I thought they were gone fore sure, but they were still there! I narrowed my eyes. “Wait, how did you know-” “You use them for food. Food and water heals you, and once you’re done with that, you won’t be as sick anymore. Report back to me in two weeks, so that we can talk again.” I glanced at the five dollar bills in my hand, and the amazing encounter that I had just experienced. Who was that? I didn’t even know. They hadn’t stated their name, where they came from, or their identity. But what I do know is that they helped me a lot.

After the person eventually left the cave (along with the shadow) I followed their advice and started a fire and ate some water with food. It took a while, sure, but I got used to it. Over time, I learned that I wasn’t even sick anymore…I was growing stronger, along with my power, not only to do good in this community, but also learning to my personal best. I would never really find out who the person was, but that was alright with me. The one encounter I had with the figure was the most important part. And since nothing blew up or turned into a disaster, I think we’re actually going to be alright here.




Other

poem I wrote 7/10/22

Like a dance
Like a song
It’s like you’re living life like a dance that
Was performed but
Clearly it’s not
Two-step
Three-step
More?
Can you do the
Flamenco or the
Macarenca
Anyone?
Dance to the flow
Dance to the beat
Because you know well
You know
The music
Never stops ever

Main Cabin Daily, July 1

Hey y'all! My name is Abby, and I'm in the Non-fi cabin. This is my first time participating in SWC! I love to draw and I doodle on every piece of paper that crosses my path. I also love to read, and the things I read inspire me to make up stories. Some of my favorite authors right now are S.D. Smith, J.R.R. Tolkein, and William Shakespeare. I LOVE Star Wars, and I'd talk about it all day if I could– and I have before! Some of my favorite characters are Obi-Wan Kenobi, Kanan Jarrus, Ahsoka Tano, The Mandalorian, Boba Fett, R2-D2, K-2SO… actually, I have quite a few favorite characters XD. I also love acting, and I want to be an actress when I grow up. I'm the oldest of 7 kids, and I'm 15 years old. I love being with little kids, and I enjoy making them laugh.

1k introduction! (1,091)

Hello, wonderful person actually taking the time to read this insanity, I'm attempting the infamous one thousand word introduction challenge. Online I'm known as Soki, which is the name of a character in a Star Wars fan fiction I wrote, from around two years ago. It's become quite confusing, to me and others, whenever I talk about that particular fan fiction, because I'm Soki, but the Soki in question is not me. I'm your local (or in most cases entirely not local) biro mantic fandom fanatic of the highly excitable variety. As any true fandom fanatic is, I'm in way too many fandoms to even begin to count. My main ones as of right now are Star Wars, Hamilton, and the Marvel Cinematic Universe, however I'm also partial to the Riordanverse, Wings of Fire, Keeper of the Lost Cities, The Hunger Games, Divergent, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and a whole bunch more that, while definitely boosting my words, would take an unnecessary amount of time for me to think of and write down, and for you to read. Also Harry Potter. Harry Potter was my original fandom, I've been totally obsessed with it for nearly seven years now. No one can separate me from Harry Potter /hj. I've been a proficient reader since age four, I've been writing stories since I was five years old, so for two thirds of my life, (I'm fifteen) even though during most of that I wanted to be a stage actor, not a writer. That changed when I was around twelve and I've been writing pretty much constantly ever since. I still am interested in stage acting, and as of now I believe I've been in nine stage plays. Most of what I write falls under the Science Fiction and Fantasy category, probably because that's what I've always enjoyed reading, but I do branch out into other genres regularly enough. Namely realistic fiction, because, even though magic and incredible yet unrealistic science are both fun topics to dive into, it's always nice to read or write about people who could be real in situations that could be real. As for the listening to music while writing debate, I'm definitely on the yes side. It's actually sometimes challenging for me to write (or function in general to be honest) without music. I'm a synesthete (someone with synesthesia, a condition where basically someone's senses are interconnected) and part of what that means for me is that when I listen to music, colours dance through my mind. I use this to inspire art and writing, as well as sometimes just to help me relax. The bands that have my favourite colours, and by extension my favourite music, are U2, Coldplay, Imagine Dragons, and AJR. (there's a whole thing where synesthetes tend to like AJR and none of us know why) I'm sure there are others, in fact I know there are, but for sone reason they're just not coming to me right now. And it's not just music that has colour for me. Pretty much everything does. I've known about SWC for quite a while, but I was really nervous about joining (obviously without good reason, I love this place) for a very long time. I finally joined as a camper last July and was in Realistic Fiction, under the fantastic people knows as Bright (@Starbriqht), Elle (@Sparkelle), and Wishes (@GoodWishes). I've been in the three sessions since as well, a leader in each one. In November 2021 I lead the Thriller Detective Agency (Thrilee Dective Ahenvy /ij), with my phenomenal co-leaders Luna (@Luna-Lovegood-LOL) and Sai (@Starrial). For March 2022's session I lead the Science Fiction Space Wreck with the stunning Hop (@-limeade), Waterfall (@129Waterfall), and Sai (@Starrial). Now this session I'm leading the Adventure Parks alongside the incredible Dawn ( @Dawn_Camps/@Dawnlights-) and Jess (@vimto-/@FollowCherryBlossom) and I can't wait to see what comes of this session! As this is my fourth session and third as leader, I'm definitely quite late to the thousand word introduction party. I thought about it last session but didn't have time. Honestly I expected this to be a lot easier than it's turned out to be. Alright. I'm homeschooled, fifteen years old, and going into Grade 10 this fall. I have two younger siblings who both have Scratch accounts, you can find them at @-Primr0se- and @_-Everqreen-_, they both deserve follows! I live on a small farm/homestead in rural Ontario, Canada, and currently help care for one dog, three cats, ten chickens, and six hives of honeybees, and I've been vegetarian for over four years now. I keep a journal/diary/thing (literally no idea what to call it lol) and to date I've written every day since 29 November 2018. It's mostly full of random thoughts and ideas, and writing in it so consistently for so long has definitely improved my writing, as well as making up probably at least ten thousand words out of my final word count each session. I'm a huge fan of roleplaying on scratch, it's really what brought me into the community instead of just sitting in my small corner of the internet coding personality quizzes. First it was a Wings of Fire RP studio I made around three years ago that let me become comfortable interacting through comments. Then, just last May, one of my official favourite places in all the universe, the High Republic RP aka OLISTAN SHIPPERS started, and the Scratch community, the friends I made there and elsewhere, have been an integral part of my existence ever since. Shoutout to the amazing Aqua (@fiercechaos), Stingray (@Whirlygig), Luna (@Luna-Lovegood-LOL), Sushi (@melovesushi), Paige (@Telianar), and Ocean (@-anqels) who make the High Republic RP such a fantastic place so dear to my heart. SWC, obviously, is one of my favourite places as well. This August I'll be co-leading the Mystery Patisserie in SRC (Scratch Reading Camp), along with the cabin's awesome leader, Nat (@RoseReef), which will be my first time branching out into a Scratch camp other than SWC. SWC is so much apart of my life that I've started separating time in my mind by sessions. I'll be like, ‘oh yeah, that was during cabin planning for March 2022’s session' or ‘oh yeah, that’s while I was working on my November 2021 leader app' to myself. I'm super excited for this session and I cannot wait to start dailies and weeklies and everything, and to get to know more of you amazing SWC-ers with whom I share this wonderful part of the universe.

Lark's writing this SWCeason-

RP Chain with Buttercuphaven:

The skies were perfectly clear that afternoon, with not a cloud in sight as Burnetrose dropped his latest catch at the fresh-kill pile. It seemed that his days had fallen into a pattern of predictable monotony, and though there was nothing inheritably wrong with that, it had begun to feel a little boring to him. He chuckled at this realization, one that he'd never though he, of all cats, would be experiencing. Perhaps this was Tarantulahunter's influence on him, that he was no longer content with his ‘normal’ life in Thunderclan. Well. Either way, there was nothing he was going to about it today, and he'd certainly lived it long enough to continue in relative complacency at the moment. Spotting a familiar yellow pelt shook him out of his thoughts, though, and Burnetrose trotted over towards his brother, hoping a little bit of interaction with one of his family members he was slightly less close to might make his day feel different. (162 words)
“Hey there! Not a lot, honestly,” the older tom responded, matching the smile on his brother's face. “But everything's been pretty… good.” He had hesitated before finishing his sentence, not particularly used to not really having anything in his life to talk about. Still- that was for the better, right? Refocusing on Buttercuphaven, he asked, “Anyways, how about you?” (59 words)

RP Chain with Tarantulahunter:

These had been some of the best moons of Burnetrose's life, even if they'd become one joyous blur in his memory, with specific memories rather indistinguishable. It wasn't that nothing had been memorable, it was just that everything had been reasonably predictable- enjoyable, and nice, but not in an exciting sort of way. Still, training Buttonpaw with Tarantulahunter was what he woke up for in the morning. The responsibility he'd been entrusted with gave him a sense of purpose in the clan. This was well-timed, because frankly, he'd felt less and less useful to the clan as of late. Sure, he could hunt and patrol, but so could everybody else in the clan. What was he really good for here? Well, at the moment, training Buttonpaw, which he'd wholeheartedly devoted himself to. He'd woken up early today, hoping to get a bit of downtime before the afternoon. But the fog of sleep that clung to him as he walked out of the warrior's den lifted as he spotted Tarantulahunter, his best friend. A grin spread across his face, and he bounced over to the other cat. (186 words)

Daily #2:

Prompt-
Will their undersea adventure go well?
My sources say no.

She blinked once, twice, looking out at the seemingly infinite expanse of blue that existed beyond the small window of her submarine. The DSV Coelacanth was settling down on its deepest venture yet, where the three-person submersible would collect sediment samples and investigate little-researched species, such as its namesake.
And it was Moriah's honor to pilot the vessel. To be chosen for a mission with such incredible discoveries possible, where it wasn't just possible, but likely, that they'd find some new sort of bacteria or creature- she was seeing her efforts of the past five years rewarded.
Prying herself away from the porthole, she knew that her responsibilities would soon become crucial. The descent and ascent to the ocean floor didn't require her at the controls, and was the only time away from them she was allotted throughout the course of the expedition. So instead of gazing at the sea, she'd be staring at the screen in front of her, navigating between crevices and canyons as she made use of the ship's high-tech systems. It was a job that required the utmost focus, and she knew that her life, the lives of the researchers behind her, and the completion of their assignment were all at risk, were she to become even momentarily distracted.
Just as she stepped away from the window, lights flashed, and the ship gave its shrill warning- they were approaching the seabed, and everyone needed to be at their seats. It was only a couple steps to her controls, and it was with ease that Moriah sat down and began her job.
Flipping switches, pressing buttons, she noted that there was an anomaly recognized by the sonar. Occasional blips weren't entirely unusual, and she tapped the screen, knowing the disturbance would disappear momentarily if the threat was innocuous. And yet, it didn't seem to be going away. In fact, it seemed to be getting closer.
“Moore, Rodriguez, are you seeing this?” Seated directly behind her were the duo, who'd been on similar missions before, and though they'd never been in the pilot's seat, both of them had years of experience on her. Surely they'd know what was going on.
It was Moore who responded, her voice low and slightly shaky, “Affirmative, Captain. But I've never seen anything like it before.”
Well, that certainly didn't reassure her. As she was taught to, Moriah considered the possibilities. It couldn't be the current. It likely wasn't a pod of fish. Certainly was too big to be any one creature- unless…
No. It couldn't be. Then again- what were the other options? As the shape on the sonar became more defined, she ruled out all the other options. It had to be a Hyricax. The underwater dragon was the stuff of legend, little more than a rumor whispered around some of the more fantastical circles of oceanographers. Yet there was nothing indefinite about what was on the sonar screen in front of her. (492 words)

Discarded attempt at Daily #3:

“Bzzt, bzzzz, bzzt, bzzz,” Lark's phone vibrated, in the pattern she'd set it to whenever her best friend texted. Had it been anybody else, her phone would have buzzed but once, and she likely would have ignored it. Frankly, she was in a bit of a mood. It was a Sunday evening, her homework was overwhelming and needed her focus, and she would have to wake up earlier for church in the morn. But she'd been friends with said friend since the fifth grade, and cared about her quite a bit more than her homework. And surely she could desert this essay for a moment. After glancing at the text, Lark sighed. Her friend worked childcare in the nursery early tomorrow with her brother, but her brother was attending a last minute slumber party, and wouldn't be able to make it. So she needed somebody to fill in, and Lark was the first person she asked. Despite having mixed feelings about children, Lark quickly sent her agreement to her friend, and resigned herself to waking up earlier , so she could help out. After a few more agonizing hours of vaguely incoherent essay writing, she drifted off to sleep and then (200 words, but this is going nowhere and I'm really disliking my writing style and i'm trying to prioritize quality this year so i'm setting this off to the side and trying again!)

Daily #3:

“Really? If you're sure, I guess.” Lark gave a melodramatic, long-suffering sigh as their rolled their eyes in their brother's direction. Glancing back down at the Minecraft world on their phone, they sprinted towards their brother's half-finished house.
“Dude… why'd you build this out of infested cobblestone? What's up with that?” Upon attempting to reshape the corners of the massive castle, Lark had encountered an unfortunate surprise: loads of silverfish.
Without looking up from his screen, their brother laughed a little bit. “To prevent you from destroying it!”
“We're both on creative.” They replied, voice unamused, but a smile forming at the edges of their mouth.
Purposefully ignoring them, their brother told them to follow them through the mansion, as he lead them to where he needed their help. Winding through intricate stairways of spruce wood, lit only by lanterns, Lark kept pace with their brother, secretly slightly proud of how far his building abilities had come.
“The only reason I asked for you to join is cause I need somebody to to the grunt work,” he added as they moved, voice slightly teasing. “There's no way I'll be tiling the whole ballroom floor when I could be adding turrets.”
“Well, either way, I'm sure you'll be glad to have me. Someone needs to make sure there's no holes in the floor.” This comment came as Lark filled in a gap in the blocks, finishing up the floor of a small, brightly lit closet that had previously led straight to the swimming pool below it.
There was a noticeably absent agreement from their brother, who continued sprinting up the stairwell. Finally, they'd reached the upper level, where blocky clouds drifted overhead.
“Okay, tile this in alternating quartz and granite, I'll be finishing up these walls.” And then, a moment later, he added, “Thanks, Lark.” (302 words- this was not a very motivating prompt for me, rip :'D)

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Daily 7/1

Hello everyone! I’m Inky (she/her) a reader, writer (obviously), artist, and crocheter. Some of my favorite books/book series include Inkheart, HP, KotLC, and anything in the Riordanverse. (There’s more, but it would take far too long to name everything.) As you can probably tell, my favorite genre is fantasy. It is what I read the most, and what I am most comfortable writing. I am working on expanding my horizons to include other kinds of stories, though!

As I mentioned before, I do crochet, mainly amigurumi (small stuffed toys). I started sometime near the beginning of the pandemic and quickly fell in love with the craft. There’s just something about stitching smiley little animals and people and inanimate objects that brings me great joy. My current project is a set of miniature dolls made to represent the members of my family, complete with removable clothes.

Um, what else? I like dogs. I play the clarinet in my school band. I play piano. I’m an aspiring computer programmer, though oddly enough I don’t do any of my coding on Scratch. I play video games sometimes. I like cheeseburgers, sushi, and mint chip ice cream. My favorite color is blue. I’m an introvert (irl; online I’m more talkative and people-y) and a perfectionist.

This is my first session of SWC (I’m a Thriller camper; go Thriller!) and I’m really, really excited for everything. The community of this camp seems incredible. Everyone has been so kind and welcoming, and I can’t wait to get to know you all! And of course I’m eager to start writing.

And this is the end of my long, rambling, extremely disorganized introduction. Thank you for reading and/or skimming through all of this, and I hope to see you around!

Word Count: 292

Edit: I said “long,” but after looking in other people’s introductions I realized that this is actually quite short in comparison xD

『 ↳✧･ﾟ daily one ;
back to dailies
back to journal
1,533 words
(updated to fix a mistake in the word count)

about me: HII i'm izzy, i am good with any pronouns, i like playing roblox (mainly royale high) and i like art and basketball! i've been in swc a few times and my goal rn is 50k and i hope to get 100k after that

more about me: i like fashion, pinterest, watching youtube and tiktok and i like drawing and sketching with pencils.
i've recently gotten into drawing fancy dresses i find on pinterest or combining different images of dresses to make a pretty unique one and i do bullet journaling but not too often
i've worked on the math and i'll have to write / do about 3,225 words each day for the month of july to get to my goal i'm pretty excited and i hope i will get to it and achieve my goal
if not there is always next session, but since it's the summer i think i have a slightly better chance now with all the freetime i have currently

Writing to test adding it to my word count:


Story Start: Leah stepped softly on the green ground as she walked through the quiet forest, trying to locate her lost border collie, named Rose. It seemed to be oddly quiet, for Rose was usually a loud dog and couldn't just disappear without a sound. Or would she? Leah started to find the silence quite eery, and it started to make her uneasy. She was letting her imagination get away from her about what could possibly be lurking in the forest. She hadn't realized it before, but a mist had started to grow in the trees. Before even realizing it, she looked down to see a pond at her feet. The mist made the image in the reflection a bit hard to see. She saw her face, of course, but then it started to warp. Leah frowned and titled her head. Did the wind blow the water? She felt a wind behind her. Probably just the wind- The face warped even more and a hand burst through the water. It dragged Leah through before she could gasp. Not through the water, per se, but through the portal into another dimension.

Story Start 2: “You will win this.” Charlotte's mom not so much reassured her, but told her, as she brushed Charlotte's hair.
“I don't want to win this pageant..” She mumbled.
“What did you say?” Her mom pulled her around to look her in the eyes.
“Nothing.” Charlotte said, trying to avoid eye contact.
“Hm.” Her mom gave her a look, but then returned to brushing Charlotte's hair.
“Did you see the other competitors?” Charlotte's mom made a horrible attempt at small talk.
“Yes..” Charlotte felt bad for the others who were also being forced into this ridiculous pageant.
“They're your competition.”
Charlotte had had enough. She turned around and burst out.
“No, mom! They're not my competition. Your competition. I never wanted to do this and if you want to enter pageants, enter them yourself! I'm not some dress up doll.” Charlotte grabbed her phone and ran out the door.

Royale High Pageant Story: Emily was so excited for the pageant! She didn't know there was a theme, so her creative side really shined through. She scrolled all the way down in the catalog to find a pink unicorn dress, and she put on her favorite skirt she owned, the secret fairy on earth skirt, to match. She took forever trying to match the color of the secret fairy on earth skirt with the pink unicorn dress she was wearing.

Mochi teleported to sunset island to guilt trip players once again at the pageant. In her mind, her guilt tripping plan was unique and never thought of before. The other players would not see her genius plan coming. She joined the server, and walked over to the board to sign up with three minutes left. Before she could copy and paste her guilt tripping message in the chat, suddenly Yui had sent a message in the chat, “no one ever votes for me i never win uwu”. Mochi gasped. That was the exact message she was about to send! How dare Yui? How could she? Mochi knew she had some good competition to compete with. She sent the message, “no no one ever votes me you probably win all the time i never do”. She knew Yui must be speechless after that. The fight kept going. Soon enough the voting started and Maddie said “no one votes for beggars”. Three players that actually had sympathy voted for both Mochi and Yui. Others did the classic style of voting, voting for who they didn't think would get votes so that the players with likeliness to win would get less votes, so they themselves would possibly win. Of course, if everyone did this then the players with less items and not on theme outfits would win.

As the results were announced, Emily grabbed a bag of cheez-its in real life. She crunched on the snacks as third place was revealed. Mochi! Emily said “congrats” in the chat and waited with suspense for second place. Rose. She said “cg!!” in the chat. She looked away from her screen for a second, because she had dropped a cheez-it. She picked it up and threw it away, and she came back to the screen holding a bouquet with a layered flower crown on her head. She wondered how that had gotten there. She asked “who won?”. Maddie gave her the answer she asked for, “you did”. Her first pageant and she won! She looked away and didn't read the chat box, so she didn't even see that she won! She wondered how the prize money, 1,000 diamonds, had ended up in her inventory, and 300 experience points had been given to her. She brushed it off as some glitch or a malfunction in the game system.

Story Start 3: (warning, puking)
Rose sang her brand new song at her exclusive concert. The tickets had been sold out. She sang with all her confidence- but she wavered when she saw something in the crowd. Or someone. Someone she hadn't seen in a while. She acted as if she had suddenly got sick and was about to puke, then ran off the stage. She was feeling perfectly fine, but needed an excuse to run off and chase that person. She quickly put on a coat and a hat that was found backstage. She made her way into the confused crowd wondering if their favorite singer was okay. She weaved through the people, and wasn't noticed a-mist all the confusion spreading. She popped her head above the crowd for a very quick look. Someone saw her face and raised an eyebrow, then told the person next to them. She saw the person next to them nod their head, probably agreeing that she was indeed not just a look-a-like and was actually the singer that had ran offstage. They tapped someone else on the shoulder, and began to tell them. Rose could see them telling the entire crowd and she saw herself getting mobbed in seconds. She ran after the person, in the direction they had went. Now where did they- She found them. She had them cornered.

The topic of click-baiting:
A rant
This rant/commentary on the subject of click-baiting is going to be mainly focused on the Royale High community on YouTube.
Not calling out names, but several YouTubers have been known for their click-baiting YouTube videos, which are including titles, and thumbnails. These so called “click-baiting” thumbnails will have images and words making the video seem like it contains a “new update that just came out” or a “confirmed release date” or new update images that have been “confirmed to be released soon”. Most of these videos are misleading and are just concepts for new updates or guesses for when a release date is. The word “concepts” won't be anywhere in the thumbnail in these videos that are click-baiting. The title will also have all the exciting words, like “new”, “release date”, “new update”, “new set”, etc. On the Youtube home page you can not usually see the entire title of the video, and instead the first part if it is too long of a title to fit on the home screen. This is upsetting to many Royale High players who come across this content. Watchers get excited, thinking a release date or a new update was confirmed only to realize it was a guess, an estimate, or just concepts of a new update. This is disheartening and seeing this a lot is quite upsetting, when your hopes keep getting up and dropping. Although this anger can be understood, some players simply go way too far. They even send hate to the creators of the videos, even though they are very nice people who may not try to be click-baiting. I personally, stand in the near middle of this argument / subject. I think the YouTubers have to do what they have to do to get their views and pay their rent, but this is upsetting. Threats are not an acceptable response at all to a video you did not enjoy watching.

Hooray it started! Yes Scratch Writing Camp!
I feel as if a lamp
Of knowledge has illuminated my dark and damp
Room with enlightenment.
Excitement
Is what I am right now.
I can hear the Scratch Cat's meow
Echoing in my ears.
I have even invited one of my peers
To join SWC this session.
I hope it has left a good impression.
Now, friends, my silly poem has come
To an end at last. From host
To camper to ghost to (co)leader I want to give everyone my utmost
Thank yous.
Thank you.


~July 1st 2022

summer's swc writing

dailies:

2:
magic 8 ball prompt ‘'does my character d!e?’' ‘'ask again later’' | 461/400 words

The cold wind strikes me as I place my two gloved hands on what I assume to be a stable rock. I push myself up onto the top of the rock and instantly regret all the decisions I’ve made so far. Climbing a mountain at night isn’t one of the wisest choices I’ve made. Yet the odd calm and the emptiness of the trail I’m taking makes the danger worth it. That is, until I draw one of my hands instantly from the rock. As the pain doesn’t fade, I pull the glove down. I can just about make out a fresh line across my palm. Bleeding.
I sigh loudly. This is why you hiked in the day; the light helps you spot any jagged edges. It helps you avoid silly injuries like this one. I take a few steps to the side and take my backpack off. Instantly the relief of the weight being gone fills my shoulders. I deserve a quick break before I deal with my hand, I think. I stretch and make some circles with arms and take a step back.

But there is no ground underneath my foot.

I reach out to grab something as I start to fall. Panic spreads through my body as the only thing that fills my hands is air. When the sight of my backpack lying on the ground leaves my vision, I accept what’s going to happen. I close my eyes and let myself drop down.
The idea that I had of making it to the peak of this mountain was just a silly dream. It was just something that I thought that I could do to seem better. But, of course, I was reckless.
I ignored all the advice I received to favour my own wants. Everything I was told about safety, taking breaks and being careful, I simply ignored. I acted like I knew it all already.

And for what?

To fall? To fall from whatever good expectations everyone had for me? Why was this what I achieved?

My thoughts fill me with dread, but there’s something about this that feels wrong. I let my eyes open and find that the scenery around me is all a blur. I can make out the shapes of some mountains at one moment but the very next second the shapes turn into trees, and then an ocean.
I haven’t d!ed, have I?
I glance around and find that I’m just hanging in the air. I’m floating while the world changes all around me.

This isn’t right – I think. There’s enough panic in me that makes me very certain I’m alive. But the changes around me suggest otherwise.

No. Hold on.
Let me try this situation again from the very beginning.
(Restart.)

weeklies:

poetry weekly 2:

The view from top:
a place where I can stop.
It's a prize for my efforts,
where I can rest with my cohorts.

The mist from here looks small.
It looks like nothing at all.
It was a challenge at first,
but it was hardly the worst.

I can make out specks of green,
And all the places I've been.
The Lodge I stayed at is still bright;
It's memories give me comfort at night.

I still have to more to go:
There's more to see and more to know.
But I have my guides by my side,
And I can climb this mountainside.

Ebsjms everyone's so organized with this so I'll try to too:

daily:

07/02/22
https://blankslate.io/?note=714230

07/03/22
https://blankslate.io/?note=714556

07/05/22
https://blankslate.io/?note=715679

weekly:

07/02/22
https://blankslate.io/?note=715265

07/06/22

https://blankslate.io/?note=716115

other:

07/01/22
https://blankslate.io/?note=713855

writing competition entry!!!

*little note I'd like to make here: first off I'd like to thank @HermioneVoiceActress for critiquing this piece! She gave some wonderful advice to me that was really eye-opening ^^ so it's thanks to her that I was inspired to write in a different format of writing <: I chose to write in verse but since im not really used to it, there are a lot of flaws. I referenced works of art such as Ask Me How I Got Here, Kwame Alexander's books and The Poet X. They are amazing books and really helped me craft this piece so I'd encourage you to go and read them! So without further ado, jump in <3

Catch Me When I Fall
Reality is fleeting,
yet I have no desire to chase it.
The world continues moving on,
as if your death had never happened.

But I cannot. I am stuck, still mourning.
All those years that we spent together, every second I was with you I hoped it would be like that forever.
Now you are gone, and I don’t know what to do.
What purpose is left there for me to continue living,
if I cannot do it with you?

In your absence I am left alone in this vast world,
the equilibrium and stableness in my life corrupted by my loss.
The house hollow and aching for your presence.

For three years
I wait for any sign that you are here.
Perhaps a footstep,
a doorbell ringing,
anything.

But I can only wait so long.

I miss you so much.
I feel so incomplete,
so miserable.
I miss the energy you’d always have,
you never seemed to run out.
Even in your last moments,
you still kept that beautiful smile on your face.
I simply couldn’t find anyone else like you anywhere.

Which is why I am helpless to the delusion my mind compels me into.
To live in this earth without you is unbearable.
Leaving would help ease this pain.
After all,
that's what you'd have wanted for me, right?
A long,
painless life.
But I'm afraid love,
I can only fulfill one of your wishes.

Remember that game we used to play?
Trust falls.
I remember feeling so fearless back then.
Determined to fall,
unafraid of the abyss waiting for me when I did because I knew that you would always be there.
To catch me.
To fall with me.
That's how it had worked ever since we'd both fallen into this universe of love,
our hands intertwined, two foolish,
young women ready to take on the world.

No matter what anyone said, we never let go of each other.
Because this was our love, no one else could interfere in it.
I remember feeling afraid at first.
What if this didn’t last?
What if we were wrong?
But you always told me to stay strong. You said
“This will be forever”.
And I believed you, how could I not?
You could always change my mind.
Funny though, because, look where we are now.

So in this moment, as I balance on the rusty railing of this forlorn bridge, awaiting my end,
I trust that you will be there with me.

As always.

My body teeters slightly towards the side,
and my heart jumps a bit.
I try to find a strong footing, then I put my hands out until I find my balance again.

I shouldn't have done that.
I should've just let myself fall.

Why is it that despite all this time, this suffering, a part of me still wishes to live?

My limbs, my hands, every part is designed to survive.
I’ve never had an injury, not even a cut. My body refuses to be injured.

One time, I got into a fight with the biggest kid at our school.
I wasn't special, never had been taught anything of defense.
And yet, every time I was about to be hit, my body automatically predicted where it would be going and how to miss it seconds before it happened.
It would swerve, duck, jump, even pull a couple hits completely by itself.

I had no part in it, I was just a medium for whatever strength possessed me in that moment.
But what was odd was how when I'd gotten out of that fight, I was completely unscathed.
No bruises, nothing.

But that ends today. My body can defend me from any force trying to kill me, but not my will.
My undying will to die.
So I stand here, love, for you.
Gradually, I let my foot step in the air for a moment.
Feel around the nothingness, the lack of surface.
A gust of wind offers my back the push it needs, and all of a sudden,
I am in the air.
g
n
i
y
l
I am f
And then f
a
l
l
i
n
g

Ready to embrace the impact of the hard surface,
letting it crush every bone in my body, listen to my heart whimper before the silence.
I will be gone.

I will be with you.

But I land.
Right on my feet.

I am angry.
But releived because, you have shown you are here.

I suppose you got what you wanted after all my love.

You caught me.

ᨒ Arli's July 22022 Writing ᨒ

Poetry's Final Challenge ᨒ July 31st
67 + 59 = 126 words

unity is our superpower - 67 words
unity is our superpower,
the tool in our box
that will never fail–
to build marvelous towers,
and brave icy seas;
to fill voids with flowers,
and harness the breeze.

once we make up our minds
to put them together,
no one will dare to
dream of defeating us–
our tidal waves of love,
and quakes of change;
our sparks of passion,
once we ignite a blaze.

never lose them - 59 words
author’s note: this poem’s dedicated to my two best friends irl - they’re the ones who kept going with me and kept me going through my hardest times, and the poem is kinda inspired by things they told me then that i still keep in mind <3 they’re not on scratch/swc but i might share it with them later ;)
find the ones:
who won’t let you leave alone,
who won’t watch you trail down
the world’s winding ways

find the ones:
who make nowhere feel like home,
who join you on the trails
and sacrifice their days

never lose the ones:
who won’t let you leave alone–
because unity’s not pitiful,
it’s the best thing we’ve ever known

Main Cabin Daily ᨒ July 29th

1438 words
beginning: your character logs on to play amogus — @a-sad-invention
conflict: the character's family is acting strange and telling things that your character knows is false — @mysticscratcher101
setting: a forest clearing with two houses, one belonging to the main character's family and the other belonging to their friend's family — @squeakybird520
climax: the main character must choose a side — @basic_potato
ending: the cast mourns what was lost — @sunclaw68
The rays of the sun peeked through the veils of the curtains, casting golden beams through the room. My feet sank onto the logs.
I smiled—the first morning of vacation, a glorious thing. In our new vacation home, adjacent to my best friend’s.
Perfect.
I grabbed a cold glass of water, taking a satisfying sip; smoothed out the pearly white covers on my bed, streaked with chambray flowers; put on my cream yellow sundress; and logged onto Among Us on my laptop, my hands trailing over the keyboard and the smooth desk.
Samir texted me. —You ready, Arden?—
And I shot back, —Oh, I was born ready.—
I’d only played Among Us once before, a year ago, but I had written on my bucket list to do it again, and I was sure I could defeat Samir, right?
—Have you even played Among Us?—
—Yes.—
—When?—
—Recently.—
—How recently?—
—In the grand scheme of things, EXTREMELY recently.—
We had these conversations, contemplating time, a lot—it was one of the things about being friends with Samir, or maybe Samir being friends with Arden, that kept me on my toes, always ready to create a clever response. I didn’t want to leave the log cabins—I wanted to stay here in this little forest clearing forever.
We both reached the lobby—after an extensive period of Samir playing with his character’s appearance—when a knock on my wooden door interrupted us.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, Arden,” my father called out. “You’re not playing Among Us with Samir, are you?”
“What’s wrong with that? You never had a problem with Among Us.”
“It’s—Samir’s parents don’t want him playing Among Us,” Dad called back.
“They’ve never had a problem with it either. Heck, I saw Samir’s dad playing with him once.”
“Well, figures.” The words were quiet, but made my head spin in a million different directions.
“Dad, what’s going on?”
“We just… I’m not…”
Then he was gone, probably expecting I’d get the message.
I got the message and chose not to apply it.
—Sorry for the wait—, I texted. —Game on.—
We made it through a few rounds before I even got the hang of it—something with finding the impostor, and Samir sure did kill me a significant amount of times. But I laughed, under my breath, and I knew Samir was smiling the same way as he defeated me. Each. And. Every. Time.
—No beginner’s luck, eh?—
—Oh, you’ll see—, I shot back. —Soon, I’ll be the greatest impostor crewmate of all time.—
The message delivered.
Samir read it.
He began to type a response.
Then the bouncing dots and the speech bubble flickered away, and he was gone.
Such a not-Samir thing for him to do.
I left Among Us, and I left my room, and I went to talk to Dad, a decision I would soon regret.
“Guys?” I called through the house. “Is something going on with Samir?”
“I told you not to play your game with him,” Dad growled immediately, although he seemed more intent on typing an angry message on his computer. Grandma and Roger sat poised on the couch, exchanging terrified looks. And Mom and Elle? They were nowhere to be found.
“I want to know what’s going on. You’re acting weird.”
“Why don’t you text your friend there and ask him? You two sure seem to have an alliance.”
“Yeah, we’re best friends.”
“You keep telling yourself that.”
Before that strange day, I would’ve thought Dad was teasing me.
But something beyond jokes was going on, and I knew it.
“I’m going to Samir’s house,” I snapped. “And if you keep acting like this, I’m not coming back.”
“Arden, do NOT go to Samir’s house.”
“I’m leaving!” I stormed out of the room and opened up the door, cold forest air hitting me. “Thanks for the lovely vacation, Dad!”
 The door slammed behind me, a noise that I knew would get me in trouble later.
I padded across the gap between our two rental houses, staring through Samir’s window which faced mine. I couldn’t see his face, but maybe his curtains were closed. And the mulch bounced up around my feet, maybe trying to get me to sink into the ground, which would have been a nice option if I wanted to escape permanently from the awful air of that living room.
“Arden’s coming!” a shrill voice shouted, one that I recognized more quickly than I could’ve known Samir’s.
Elle’s.
I broke into a run, my feet which I now realized were bare hurting with each step.
“Arden, stay out of this,” a deeper voice demanded, although panic hinged on each word. My mother’s.
I faced the front yard.
Samir was perched on a shrub, shuddering, with his younger sister Nadia.
His parents appeared to be facing off against Mom and Elle, all four screaming at one another and holding what looked like twisting lightsabers, which was probably what made Samir and Nadia so frightened. Flashes of neon light danced over the lawn, and each time the lightsabers hit each other, a horrible noise rang out.
“WHAT IS GOING ON?”
Samir’s parents, Mom, and Elle stopped.
Just in time for Dad, Grandma, and Roger to come racing up, shouting insults towards Samir’s family and drowning out my question. I rushed over to my best friend and his sister, who looked more frightened than I’d ever seen anyone before.
“Are—is everything—“
“Apparently our families are part of some sick rivalry.” Samir buried his face in his hands. “With their lightsabers or whatever. They begged me not to play Among Us with you… I…”
“Listen, guys, it’s—it’s okay. We’re going to stop them.”
“They want you to pick a side, Arden. They want all three of us to pick sides.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Our families—they wanted us to go against each other, but we—we broke the rules—now we have to pick sides. And I want to stay with my family, I really do. But I can’t just leave you behind.”
“Sure you can,” I whispered. “We’ve only known each other for, like, a year. And this is your family.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to leave yours behind…” The thought trailed off, slowly morphing into…
A question, maybe?
I stared at the scene. Roger ran to grab the strange stick of light from Samir’s dad’s hands, and suddenly collapsed on his knees, writhing in agony. Elle was hit in the face by the flying lightsaber, falling backwards into the bushes, which didn’t look all too comfortable—red marks of thorns ran across his skin. Mom already had some bizarre crimson gash, and Samir’s dad had a matching one.
But the worst scar anyone got that day was clearly the one on Samir—or maybe Nadia, since she was younger, only five while Samir was twelve.
“So what do you think now, Arden?” Dad barked. “Was it a better idea to listen to me, or play your game with this kid?”
Rage flourished inside of me, red and hot and undefeatable, as I shouted back, “Of course I’d rather stay with my best friend.”
Instead of the family who had tried to manipulate me, who hadn’t told me the truth.

A lot changed that day. I did stay at Samir’s house, hiding in his room with him and Nadia and talking about all that had changed.
We weren’t sure if Elle and Roger would recover from their injuries.
“I can’t believe my family did this to yours,” Samir groaned. “But I couldn’t leave them—and now I’m forcing you to make this awful sacrifice…”
“One thing’s for sure, Samir. We lost a lot today.”
“What do you mean?” Nadia piped up. “Are people… going to die?”
“I sure hope not,” I whispered back, staring into her dark, glimmering eyes. “But our lives are going to change with this revelation—I guess, maybe, our old selves have died.”
“Whoa.”
“Replaced with new, better people,” I continued, faking a smile. “And these new, better people will end the dumb rivalry once and for all. The three of us.”
Nadia smiled—a little smile, but a genuine one.
Elle and Roger both survived, much to Nadia’s relief, much to my relief—from what I heard, they would recover. But in a way, our old selves did die that day, although Nadia was a bit young to comprehend such a thing. So Samir and I sat there, silently understanding each other, mourning our lost younger selves, the children who had gone to play Among Us that morning.

Main Cabin Daily ᨒ July 28th

374 words (on the topic of the wondrefluns Non-Fi)
We all love spending time convincing others of the best cabin in SWC, don’t we? Our own, of course. But today we’re putting a twist on the classic “My cabin is the best” and for the daily you must write 300 words of an argumentative piece about how one of your enemy or neutral cabins (not allies!) is the best cabin to earn 600 points.
It sure does take a lot of courage to be enemies with the great Poetry Mountain Lodge, but this month the Noxan-Fi Press, led by Addie and co-led by Aleia and Blush (we miss you!) has risen to the challenge. This cabin has exhibited not only great bravery but a wonderful assortment of (co)leaders and an engaging experience for its campers. In fact, Non-Fi may even be the best cabin after all.
(Note that the Non-Fi Press is also known as the :cowboy: press
Addie, Aleia, and Blush make a wonderful team, each bringing spirit to their cabin, along with plenty of chaos in the form of :cowboy:. Addie has a hilarious sense of humor. Aleia is a spectacularly positive and fun person. And Blush, although she sadly went inactive before the beginning of the session, brought light to Non-Fi that lasted. Non-Fi’s campers also bring fun spirit to the cabin—I’ve seen them collaborating on cabin wars and kindly reminding each other of SWC tasks plenty. So it’s no surprise that Non-Fi is doing quite well as a cabin.
Non-Fi possesses a special theme—as mentioned before, they are the Non-Fi Press, themed around a newspaper printing factory. What’s better to inspire campers to write than that? And, quite a bit of mayhem goes on as well—the introduction to the cabin shows how the camp’s classic chaos persists in Non-Fi. Writing and chaos are always the best combination—you cannot change my mind. Non-Fi is at a steady ninth place, in the single digits, showing their campers’ dedication to their cabin and how their hard work has not failed them. Nine squared, or nine times nine, equals 81. 81 is visually similar to 8-1, the date of August first. Cabin destruction after July’s session typically starts on August first. And cabin destruciton reigns supreme. Clearly, this is yet another good reason why Non-Fi is the best cabin—alongside their wonderful leaders and campers, their theme, and, of course, the absolute courage they possess opposing Poetry.
Because really, every cabin is called the best. It’s subjective to your opinion! But if you really want to know…
Stan Non-Fi. <3
authors note: ily dear enemies -arl /p /gen

Main Cabin Daily ᨒ July 26th
354 words
As seen throughout history, the passage of time can bring about huge changes - especially to an environment. Forests are destroyed, cities rise, buildings are torn down, wastelands develop; and these are just scratching the surface. In as much detail as possible, describe a setting and post it in the comments. Then choose someone else’s setting (multiple people can choose the same one!) and write at least 300 words describing what it’s become after 100 years or any long period of time.
“Lunaris is a world where everything is dark. Quite literally. The citizens live in constant fear of being devoured by the giant black hole next to the city. Lunaris is small, with some cobblestone streets and wood houses and structures. The people have different small occupations that they live from.” -Cami @hamilchaos <3

Each day Lunaris seemingly creeps closer to the black hole. It’s a miracle it hasn’t just happened yet, the end of the city.
Some of the darkness has been washed away by flutters of light that struggle to escape from the black hole’s grasp, always failing. The atmosphere has turned from black to dark, foggy gray, and specks of light that look like miniature fireflies illuminate the city, always rushing the same way.
This is not a good sign.
Different types of structures have been invented—or attempted—by the city’s builders, although from the tests, the stony buildings are just as durable as the wooden ones: not enough. The wood houses haven’t sustained any damage, although sometimes tiny things are lost in the night. And everyone knows not to bother with going looking for them.
Lunaris’s commerce hasn’t changed much over the past century—still typical small merchant stands on the streets. A few new technologies have been invented, specifically in the field of building—the streets are now made of a thick paste like concrete, named starstreet due to the little flecks of light that often land upon the surface.
Lunaris’s community has strengthened against the fear that haunts the city. The scientific community has started searching for ways to potentially stop the planet’s movements towards the black hole. Unfortunately, great disagreement has occurred—while some want to stay true to their city and environment, others are more concerned with lifting the people off the face of Lunaris. This hasn’t helped to accelerate plans of escape.
The most startling new occurrence is the quakes: they shake the surface of Lunaris, sometimes knocking down its wood buildings. Something about the gravity has shifted, putting the city under extra pressure. Any year—in fact, any day—what used to be a fear could become reality. Eventually, the city will be destroyed—that’s a fact. And once the onset of that occurs, the citizens will have to decide whether they want to escape and start a completely different life, one that could be as volatile as the black hole—or go down with the city.

some proof for cabin wars <3

“Althadah?” A terrified expression crossed Emery’s face as his silver eyes stared into mine, shock pouring through. “What is this place?”
“It’s—it’s just a normal little city, at least—at least to me…”
“Rosie, what is this place?” He shuddered, standing up just as I did.
“Um—my name—it’s actually Roselja. It’s—it’s the—this is Althadah.”
“I know. But—I—can I get out?”
I turned towards the opening in the Vortex, which, of course, would blow him back out again. “Yes, you can get out. But to do that, we have to go through the city. Stupid system, I know. I don’t even know how they thought of it.”
“How far—how far am I from home?”
The gravity of the situation banged against my head, and stung. “I—do you live in…” I tried to remember where the Old Abandoned Warehouse was, which should have been common knowledge. “Do you live in San Francisco?”
“Yeah.”
“I… I never really knew.” My face paled, as I tried to remember where Althadah was allegedly situated. “Do you know where, uhm, Thailand is?”
“We’re in Thailand?!” A raspy shriek seeped into Emery’s voice, something that chilled my veins to ice. “That’s, like, an ocean away from San Francisco!”
“No, no, Emery, it’s okay. Calm down. We’re on an island off the coast of Thailand.”
“Rosi—Roselja… I think the world might be a bit wider than you think it is.” Emery trembled. The icy terror in his eyes hit me like a lightning bolt, and I rushed over to him, not completely sure what to do. So I grasped his arm, trying to stop his shaking movements as he pressed his face into his other hand, shaking his head. “I knew I was stupid for going.”
“Hey, Emery, it’s—it’s okay!” My voice sounded more cheery than usual, especially giving the circumstances the boy was facing. “We just have to go through the city of Althadah to get to the other Vortex.”
Emery shuddered harder.
“It’s not a dangerous city or anything. I think it’s kind of fun. You’ll get to see Khalq the inventor and his latest mishaps.”
“Who’s Khalq?”
“He’s—he’s a guy who makes potions.”
“What, is this some weird fantasy world?” Emery stared at me.
“Yes.”
The dry humor did not seem to calm him down.
“Just—you know, because most people—they aren’t really adjusted to this kind of thing. But come on. We’ll just pass through Althadah, and it’s not terrifying or evil or anything, just a bit eccentric, I guess. Whatever you want to call it.”
“O—kay…”
I tightened my grip on Emery’s arm, spinning him towards the city, which I had to admit always looked quite peculiar after an afternoon in the Old Abandoned Warehouse staring out at San Francisco’s simple skyscrapers.
“Thailand, you say.”
“An island off of Thailand.” I smirked. “Quite different.”
I didn’t quite know that the Vortex actually passed under the Pacific Ocean, with its emergency stop at a chain of islands called Hawaii. It was a shame what little I had been told about the Vortex, being one of its most loyal monitors—even though I wasn’t loyal to the idea of the Old Abandoned Warehous itself. It was badly hidden, too accessible. And that panic in Emery’s eyes, the glints of tears at the thought of losing his old life…
That all could have been prevented, with some better thinking.
“Okay, let’s go through Althadah.” I forced a smile, strolling down the Main Street and linking my arm through Emery’s. The sidewalk was made of clean, white stone—it had been, and every three days, one of Khalq’s potions would come flooding through it, painting it to match some sort of rainbow.
“So… what’s up with the sidewalk?”
“Khalq.” The frazzled alchemist rushed down the street, moaning and shouting as one of his potions spilled out. “I spent a long time on this one!!”
“You ever wonder if Khalq does it on purpose? For, like, attention or something?” Emery looked genuine—I wasn’t sure if that was a normal-world thing, or just the mind of a teenage boy.
“Now I do.”
699 WORDS

poetry weekly adventure #3

The trees reached their spiky tips up to the grey clouds, searching for the warmth in them, which peeked out in a few places in shades of dusty blue. The ground was pearly white, and the slate blues of the sky reflected onto it.
Arli and Sunset rode in somewhere around twelve or one in the afternoon. Arli hadn’t yet been snowboarding or skiing, and Sunset, being a young dog, hadn’t yet learned the feel of freshly fallen snow on her paws.
She played around with the sugary substance, which wasn’t edible like the fallen things from the kitchen. It lightly dusted her nose, and she sniffed it back. Eventually she let all fours sink a bit into the snow.
Arli, on the other hand, was a much more chaotic story. She grabbed a sled, and walked to somewhere in the middle of the short mountain, placing her board down.
Sunset heard her shouting from yards away, and peacefully dug at the snow, turning her head once in a while to supervise Arli’s antics. (This was years ago and Arli shall not be blackmailed for such a thing.) And her mindless digging as she watched the chaos-festival reached something strange—which definitely was not snow.
It was pale teal like a lake glistening under the tired early morning sky, but frozen solid under the ground, sparkling with the glimmers of the rays’ ghosts.
“What is that?” Arli was just as puzzled as Sunset was, although her dog couldn’t show it. It looked like a sparkly rock, or a geode, as she’d heard. She had a box of geodes in her garage just waiting for her to explain, but the things wouldn’t peak her interest for a while.
Just then, a silhouette who looked like an older sister of Arli arrived.
Arli was an only child.
“Um—“ Young Arli hesitated to speak to the older figure at first, trying to pry the geode from the ground. “Do you have any—clue what this thing is?”
Arli’s not-older-sister peered down. She had more purple streaks at the bottom of her hair, which was shorter and curlier. And her jacket had something called “Mountain Thingies” printed all over it. Of course she was older, and a little bit taller. But other than that, she looked almost the same.
She was, almost, the same.
The geode reflected that same tired-morning teal into Older Arli’s galaxy-purple eyes. The light hit her face as well and she smiled. “That appears to be a geode! I wonder if it was placed there on purpose. And right where our—YOUR dog is—“
That was when Young Arli realized that an older version of her own dog, who had buried her nose in a smaller hole of her own—maybe searching for more geodes?—was next to Older Arli. The slip-up confused her a little bit, and she observed the features of Older Arli’s face for a moment, wondering why they and their dogs were so similar.
Older Arli knew the answer.
Young Sunset stared at the dog that looked so exactly like her, tilting her head the slightest bit (which had never happened much). Older Sunset gazed calmly back at her, with placid chocolate-brown eyes.
“I’d like to tell you about something,” Older Arli piped up again. “There’s a link engraved on the back of this geode here. You might be a little bit late, but camper signups happen in February—so I think you should be fine. You might have to be a backup camper. But that’s cool too.”
“What?” Young Arli’s eyebrows crinkled.
“You have a phone? Yes, you do. I remember when I—“ Older Arli stopped abruptly.
Young Arli took out the cell phone in her mahogany jacket pocket and typed in the link engraved on the geode. As soon as the words flashed across the screen—the pines blocked out the reception a bit as if they were shielding Young Arli from one of the best things that would ever happen to her—she crinkled her eyebrows again in confusion.
“Scratch Writing Camp?”
686 WORDS

july 19th main cabin daily

I ran, my skin flushing. I ran and I felt my insides boil until the heat of rage nearly consumed me. The red splotches reached across my vision like burned hands of misery that loved company. And my feet pounded as she appeared, oblivious, almost smiling. An innocent smile that I wasn’t sure I was ready to spoil. I made myself run, because I thought it was best, although maybe it wasn’t. And my heartbeat pounded in my ears and my throat until I finally reached her, grasping her arm.
“Nasima, what are you doing?”
“We have to run. It’s starting.”
“What’s starting?” Suree’s wobbly voice sounded too distant.
“I don’t know. But we have to take cover.”
“Where are we?”
“I don’t know.”
In her black eyes, I watched fear bubble up and shimmer with glints of panic. And I clutched my sister’s hand, tracing my fingers over the bracelet she wore that matched mine. I noticed then that the strings were fraying, and swirling, stinging pangs leapt right over my heart like invincible wasps.
What that meant–I didn’t know.
I didn’t know, and that was why my sister was afraid. And I saw the truth reflecting in her eyes: I had always known, and since I didn’t, it was the end of the world.
Not that she was wrong about that last part.
The wasps turned from panicked to angry, and twirled around me, shrouding the two of us.
“Stick with me and don’t go anywhere you wouldn’t.”
The bubbles sank down a bit, waiting, patiently, to spring out.
“And, now we run.”
“What?”
A good answer was exchanged for sprinting, and the pounding returned, harder and louder this time–the wasps’ angry song, my heart the drum. And Suree trailed along behind me, almost slipping and falling as she grasped my hand with both of hers, our pulses matching like our bracelets. The tiny rips seemingly expanded with each beat of our torn shoes and the drums.
“Nasima, what are we going to do?”
The small voice sent me freezing to a halt, stammering, shuddering, gasping for words that never came. Suree stared wide-eyed, her fingers intertwined through mine with the dusty-rose nail paint that was chipping. Everything was chipping, each thing that we shared falling to ruins.
And I couldn’t give her the terrifying answer that had first broken her, so I calmed my shuddering, and told her all I’d ever known.
“We are going to stay together.”
In a way, I was still foolishly innocent like my sister. Then, I hadn’t realized that maybe, one day, we wouldn’t, we couldn’t.
434 WORDS

july 18th main cabin daily

The Mouse skittered anxiously across its keyboard, staring into the white, blinding abyss of the screen. Cabin wars were a celebration for most, but this Mouse was rather worried. Its cabin was direly near to last place, and not many other campers were awake. (Did this particular mouse have a different timezone, did she stay up too late, or both? We will never know, but it doesn’t really matter to the course of our story.)
Unpoetic Nonthrilled Fiction had nearly climbed out of last place, too close to knocking Adventurous Horrified History down into the hole—and the Mouse could not let such a thing happen. Her pride in her cabin was too great, greater than that of most, she would argue.
She refreshed the page, clicking down on the buttons once. Twice. Three times.
And there it was: a message from @winninglion0531. One that sent lava churning through the Mouse’s veins.
“Shall I give you a cabin war?”
Not only was the Lion’s cabin—Scientifically Thrilled Adventures—in first place, but the cabin was their worst enemies. And comments had popped up around SWC’s cabins with tiny clicks portraying the havoc that had been wreaked on each different cabin by the Lion in particular. Maybe their worst enemy was the final piece to their grand scheme, the best part for last…
“No,” @m0usse999 shot back.
And that probably angered the prideful Lion a little bit, because all too soon, a medallion-gold 1 popped up on the Mouse’s notification box. The lava swirled and sloshed within them as they pressed down and—
“Oh, that four-person one where everyone has to write the thousand words sounds so fun right about now. And your shield goes down in just a minute.”
“No, it doesn’t. Our shield is up.” Pride bubbled up as the Mouse flew the retort into the Lion’s mailbox, replaced with churning fear as the Lion casually replied:
“Your shield just went down. Your leader forgot to update the description.”
ARLI! the Mouse screamed in her head, flushed with embarrassment.
“Please don’t war us! Literally no one is on and it won’t be of benefit to anyone! We can form an alliance with your leaders. We can help you. If you’re going to war us, give us something easy, or at least one that doesn’t require lots of people!”
She scurried back and forth, pacing on her keyboard before sending and accidentally adding a whole lot of letterspam. And for the longest time, the medallion didn’t dare show itself again and the Mouse didn’t dare refresh the page. Wouldn’t it be hopeless anyway if they got the awful war?
And then—
Finally—
A message came through.
The lava was burning, melting each ghost of hope in its path.
Click.

An unexpected generosity had come over the Lion, although he couldn’t help but be entertained by the idea of relying on a small enemy cabin for help.
He typed back, “Okay, I won’t war your cabin until more people are on—it would be quite fruitless anyway. But I am unsure about how you’re supposed to help us?”
The Mouse didn’t type anything in return, so the Lion fell back in his chair, satisfied with his work for the night. Flickers of gold medallions entered his eyes—but none seemed better than a first-place standing for Scientifically Thrilled Adventures. The Lion had golden dreams of cabin supremacy, and was still asleep when their shield went down and Unpoetic Nonthrilled Fiction chimed in with a 4000-word war.

This is my chance, thought the Mouse, watching the Lion struggle through their part of the war. 2923 more words needed to be written in the hour, or else—
They’d fall from first place.
The Lion’s pride already stung.
The Mouse watched this all go down, knowing that it was probably pretty early for the Lion. The mid-morning sun was shining through the Mouse’s glassy window, casting golden shimmers over the table where she wrote. But 11:00 in Auckland, New Zealand meant 7:00 in Beijing, China, where the Lion’s location was set on Scratch.
Maybe it was generosity, the reimbursement of a kind favor.
Or maybe the mouse’s cabin pride was especially present that morning.
She scrolled down on the mouse-sized touchpad of her computer, and typed a comment on the Lion’s profile: “Hey, want an easy war so your shield doesn’t go down yet?”
It was a quirky little plan and probably not a great one. But the 2-person, 500-word-each war flashed through the Mouse’s mind, and the Lion seemed pretty grateful for the sentiment with the “OMG YEAH THANK YOU PLEASE MOUSSE YOU ARE A LIFESAVER.”
“Guess a smaller cabin can still help you out, can’t it, Winninglion?” was the Mouse’s (or Mousse’s) response after she sent the “Cabin Wars!” message to Scientifically Thrilled Adventures.
And about an hour later, the Lion, probably having forgotten about it in the midst of cabin wars, replied, “Thanks to me, you probably won’t be a small cabin anymore soon!”
830 WORDS

july 17th main cabin daily

The meaning of a phrase can be immensely impacted by the experiences of the person saying it, the relation of the person they’re speaking to, and the situation in which it’s said. Today, write a story in which the first and last lines are the same. How do your characters’ and the reader’s interpretations of the sentence change? Your story must be at least 700 words to earn 900 points.

“You’re ridiculous,” Ebony snapped.
The coldness in her voice made Drew shiver, as if he’d been caught in a ruthless blizzard. The creation in his hands quivered.
Ebony stared at him with the wide black eyes he’d come to know fairly well, until they froze over with a coldness that sent coldness charging through Drew’s soul.
If Ebony’s creation couldn’t work, why could his?
He was the one who had broken it.
He’d always been clumsy—she knew that. But this time, he’d carelessly been pushing a cart of tools next to her table, and with a flash all of the items had gone clattering down. And now spinning gears and little chips were strewn at her feet as she tinkered with what was left of it, still glaring at Drew every few seconds as he just gazed back at her.
He opened a drawer, expecting Ebony to shut it, maybe on his hands. But instead, her eyes trailed toward it, and Drew could see how she scanned each little piece like a stupid miniature scanner. Trying to distract herself.
He pieced through what he knew was missing: three gears, a small battery, and two Miniature Screens, which were, in her words, “the best creation of the 22nd century.”
Everything inside of him felt twisted, frozen towers that had turned topsy-turvy like old roller coasters. It was a feeling that he thought was beyond repair, unless there was a way to destroy it, or fragment it into a million pieces, or drown it.
But he didn’t deserve that.
So he decided to break something else.
The shaking creation in his hands—a stupid miniature scanner.
He raised it slightly, glanced once at Ebony, then down at his hand.
Then he looked away, and hot anger—towards himself—burned through him like lava, about to erupt.
And he shut his eyes tight, bracing for the impact.
CRACK!
Ebony’s quiet gasp—with a hint of anguish—was its echo.
And after a moment when his heart ached with a certain, seizing dread, Drew pried open his eyelids.
He looked down at the shatters of his creation on the floor. Finally, he thought.
Although it was the best thing he’d been able to create in years–
And it was probably beyond repair, considering a lot of parts had fragmented, been split and joined two separate sides.
But he knew how proud Ebony had been of what she had made–she’d been working on it for months. And thanks to him, it had vital pieces missing and chips on its sides and–
“Why did you break yours?”
Ebony’s voice scraped through the air, as if to hurt Drew like blades.
He looked down, face crimson, at his obsidian-colored boots rested against the leg of the chair. Ebony stayed focused on him, and for the longest time he tried to avoid her stare.
But he failed, and soon he was staring at her with raw, broken lakes of turquoise blue eyes, saying, “Because if you don’t get to finish yours, why should I?”
It seemed to express everything he wanted to say–or at least all the things that would help the situation.
Drew thought he saw a flare of warm sympathy in her eyes.
“You can help me smash it, if you want.”
“We don’t need more destruction, Drew.” But it didn’t sound as icy. She traced her fingernails with the chipped navy paint over one of the tiny cracks. “It wasn’t going to work out anyway, was it?”
She became a blur in Drew’s eyes, as he rested his chin in his hand and let tears rain down from the mist.
“I meant the project.”
“Oh.” But the mist was there to stay, and once it had started to pour into rain, it wouldn’t stop. He turned himself away from Ebony just in time for his cheeks to flush red as he took a battery from his pocket and–
“Stop.” Ebony grasped his wrist, twirling the battery out of his hand and placing it beside her so that Drew couldn’t reach it. And after he said nothing, she calmly added, “You don’t need to destroy that. It probably won’t break anyway, and then you’ll be disappointed, and I really don’t want to know what happens then.”
He peered at her through the hand that was still covering his face.
“You’re really trying a way to fix it?”
“I mean–” His voice rasped like hers had before. “Maybe–maybe we–I–you can fix it or something–”
“Do you really think we can fix this?”
“Hey, you’re the one who fixed that train wreck of a creation I was trying to make a while back. The day we first talked and–”
A laugh escaped Ebony’s lips, and Drew’s face lit up. “That was amazing! I never would’ve guessed that such an old battery could work.”
Darkness shrouded Drew’s face again. “I’m sorry I can’t do the same for you.”
“Drew.” Ebony brushed her hand through her wild brown-black curls. “You can be a clumsy idiot sometimes. But… I can tell that you care.”
“How?”
“Because you told me a while ago that you never cry.” She stared at him for a moment, as if she was trying to search for the paths his tears traced.
“When was that?”
“A year ago.”
“A YEAR?!” Drew nearly fell back in his chair.
Ebony smiled slightly. “Guess you’re clumsy AND forgetful.”
“Hey! I’m not forgetful! I remembered your birthday!” Drew twisted a golden-hued gear in his hand. He wasn’t shaking with lava anymore—a sweet, refreshing relief had seeped through his hands, healing the cuts inside where the fire had hurt him.
“Can’t forget about that.” The memory of the new-and-improved Plant Machine he’d given to her (made mostly from 21st-century materials, her obsession) made Ebony’s face flash with joyful light.
“Will that make up for all the times I destroyed your creations?”
“Hey, it’s only been one so far.”
“So far…” The whispered repetition fell somewhere between question and sheepish agreement.
Ebony genuinely smiled. At Drew. And ran her fingers across her face, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.”
1008 WORDS

july 14th main cabin daily

How many hours did you sleep the night before this daily was put in? Write 1200 words about your various characters’ sleep habits and the effects they have on them for 700 points. For every hour that you slept that night, you have to write 100 fewer than the 1200.

Darla cared about her sleep schedule. She’d felt the effects of sleep deprivation various times after restless nights of worrying, and she knew they weren’t fun. But she couldn’t help sometimes staring at the ceiling minutes after midnight, contemplating her theories about books or the meaning of life or all the problems in the world.
She couldn’t call herself a sleep professional—usually falling asleep around midnight and waking up at eight. But teenagers were supposed to get eight hours of sleep, she’d heard plenty of times—and it wasn’t like she had anywhere to be after eight. For her, the night was more appealing than the day. Day presented everything clearly, but night shrouded its fantasies behind black veils of sky—the fog that hung over Emberpeak at night. It wasn’t happy, or inspiring, but it was something remarkable. And she’d stare at it for hours before finally falling asleep.
Oftentimes, she’d spend the waking hours of night coming up with ideas of how to make her best friend, Emma, go to sleep.
Usually, she wasn’t the rebellious type. But, each night, Emma pretended to go to sleep around eleven. She’d take her sketchpad and pencils and open her window to the dark veils and just draw. And usually this went on for one to three hours, interspersed with some contemplation (Darla’s favorite late-night pastime, of course) and the occasional reading. Two o’ clock in the morning was Emma’s ideal time for sleep—one-thirty felt dark and ominous, and two-thirty was dangerously close to three, when she knew she should actually be asleep. Most nights, she was forced by the logical side of her mind to go to sleep at one. Then, if she was lucky, she’d wake up at eight, just in time to see a late Emberpeak sunrise in the autumn or winter.
This spiraled into a friendly debate about sleep schedules between the two of them—Darla would ask Emma what time she had gone to sleep, and Emma would tell her a decent-sounding answer like eleven, and then Darla would admit that she had gone to sleep at twelve, and Emma would smile and tell her that she’d actually gone to sleep at two in the morning. If you looked closely at the two of them, you could spot the faintest ghosts of dark circles under their eyes and dull shimmers of exhaustion reflecting in from the Emberpeak skies. Emma’s circles and shimmers, of course, were always a bit more present, but Darla’s seemed to come to her naturally, and so they looked like they’d both gotten six hours of sleep. But this was Emberpeak, so nothing ever changed.
448 WORDS - I got 8.5 hours of sleep but I wrote 98 extra words lol

july 11th main cabin daily

I peeled my eyes open.
The dust settled around me.
I stared at the stained yellow sky, feeling tears form in my eyes as they adjusted to the light. And I sat up, not realizing fully that I’d been laying down. A crushing weight seemed to be pressing down on my shoulders, but I tried to brush it away.
I didn’t bother calling for my sister.
Either she would have stayed by my side, or she was lost.
I was alone in the vast, empty desert. Dust storms were ravaging in the distance, mostly towards what I thought was the north. And I realized that I had no clue where exactly I was–but I didn’t cry for help. The dust wanted to choke all of my words away, and so did the dry lump in my throat. All the words were flowing out with my tears that nourished tiny patches of barren earth below.
I padded south.
The region was a little bit mountainous, and I knew that Nasima would follow any sign of precipitation–although all the snow had seemingly evaporated off of the mountains. I didn’t recognize the mountains, or the dry, cracked ground below me that seemed to break more with every step. I had to be careful so I wouldn’t fall through.
I came upon a small tent, which looked like an iceberg-shaped bunker hidden under the earth. And I pushed away the hope that was bubbling up inside me like a geyser.
I crawled into the opening.
A couple of blue-eyed young women sat staring at me, no words coming out of their mouths. They were terrified. And that same feeling burned in my stomach and melted my throat. I didn’t speak to them, and the hope fizzled away with the image of the galaxies of Nasima’s eyes.
I crept out of the tent as dusky, misty fog passed over my eyes again, and the lava in my heart burned the last of the hope away. And I collapsed into the dust, letting rivers flow from the dark eyes that I shared with my sister.
I tried to piece together what had happened to make Nasima disappear, but veils of the same fog in my eyes hung over my mind. And I let them hang down and cloud my brain like the yellow haze that had coated earth during whatever had happened—the apocalypse, as we had once called it when we were young and didn’t believe it could happen.
And feelings coursed through me, more than I felt I could handle. The rage seeping through the veins in my arms and legs, the existential dread weighing down on my stomach like a boulder, the fear sending waves of electricity through my heart until I was crackling like a lightning bolt.
I painted a mental picture, with each color perfect like a photograph, of Nasima—dark determined eyes like mine but set on the future and passionate red shining through her few freckles. And I blinked a few times, hoping her face would appear, her soft but determined voice ready to tell me what to do. But all I saw were the dust storms marching closer and the ashy black branches of dead trees strewn about the ground.
The terrified couple was the only trace of life I could find. Neither of them had the same dark eyes as Nasima and I did—the only kind I had ever known and trusted. So I curled my shaking hands into tight fists, and carved my own path through the dust.
590 WORDS

july 8th main cabin daily

Today is another classic SWC daily — copy and paste a song into Google Translate, translate it into a few different languages, and then translate it back to English and use the messed-up lyrics as a writing prompt.
Song: Times are Hard for Dreamers - Amélie
IT CHANGED LOL

It didn’t hurt.
It didn’t hurt to stuff every piece of my life I had ever known into a cardboard box and stare at my bare white walls. I leaned against the door, which no longer had any posters or pictures on it. And I vowed to keep every item I’d taken out.
Then I turned away, and never saw those white walls again.
The cold bit at my fingers as I rushed outside, trying to shoo it away and searching for some method of transportation. Finally, I rushed up to a window—the window of a stopping train car. I sprinted in with my box and looked at my old home through the snowstorm as I rode away, never to see it again.
The pelting snowflakes blocked the signs on the road, but I could make out some letters. I didn’t understand any of them—I’d never been to any of those places in my life. I knew the words Paris Railroad Station and Sacramento, and decided it was safest to go to one of those—Paris Railroad Station was closer, so I waited to hear it called out on the loudspeaker.
The streets were busy, for the middle of a winter night.
Even the few passengers scattered around me were more than I’d expected—and they seemed uneasy, watching the glassy faces appear on the window screens like ghostly holograms and then flash away. I could barely focus when “Paris Railroad Station” was spoken so calmly by the engineer.
I was anxious to get out of the strange space. But as soon as the metal doors opened—
A shouting crowd appeared, a discordant symphony of shrill voices, trying to stop us outsiders from entering their city. One of my fellow passengers pulled me back as the engineer charged to our car and tried to clear them out.
“Run,” a voice whispered to me, and I was pushed down the steps, hugging the box to myself as I sprinted as fast as I could with the rest of the passengers. I’d only visited the Railroad Station once, as a young girl—so I followed the few out of the mess, frightened for the engineer’s sanity.
They—we—escaped into a small apartment building, with a few lights still illuminated and a tired man sitting at the desk, the circles under his eyes turning into crescents of obsidian. It was so perfect—he was so tired, he threw a key in our direction and threw his head down on his desk. All of us rushed in the same direction—towards the second floor, where an empty room waited for us just above the staircase.
We shoved tables aside, holding the bags and boxes of money and valuables that had nearly flown open to ourselves. One of the passengers threw the door open, and we flooded in one by one. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Of course, this wasn’t my perfect midnight escape I’d dreamt of.
But here I was—and this would be my world, for now.
I pushed the clouds of past ideas out of my mind, focusing on the expectant crowd around me. One of them had said something— “it’s a tough time for dreamers” or something of that kind— and they seemed to be awaiting my opinion. I nodded, staring out the window at an icy, glassy surface that looked like an ocean.
If it was true, that window was positioned very dangerously.
The faintest glimmer of sunlight appeared on the horizon, and I spotted some more windows in the distance, showing more second-story buildings, that probably weren’t full of terrified train passengers escaping whatever burden had pushed them away.
I opened the box.
A folder rested atop all my messily stacked possessions, crammed with old Polaroids that I’d taken when I was younger. I had wanted to hang them on the walls of my new apartment, as a reminder of what I’d left behind.
But I knew that the past was behind me.
I just had to open my eyes to the pristine window, which was almost being lapped at by salty waves.
“There had better not be a flood,” one of the passengers—a girl just younger than I was—muttered.
“I’m terrified,” came a response. I realized it was from myself a moment later—and was surprised at the idea of saying those words. “But… maybe it’ll be okay.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure. But we can only hope, can’t we?”
751 WORDS

july 6th main cabin daily

Do you believe in horoscopes? Today, find your sign’s horoscope at https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/711163750 and use it as a writing prompt!
Capricorn: You might find yourself sidestepping in order to avoid a commitment today, Capricorn. Don't keep giving someone the runaround. Be strong and let people know your thoughts even if you think their feelings will be hurt. Your job is to handle your emotions. Other people can protect their own. Be aggressive if you have to be. Your own sanity depends on you being true to yourself.

Today is the day.
My mind was a delicately built structure, and the slashing, slicing thoughts of dread were fault lines that made each carefully risen hopeful idea come crashing down. And I tried to steady it, but hope was already in shambles.
This is what you lost, thanks to Esmerald.
The village used to be a new beginning, a glimmering green jewel in what we suspected to be an eternal desert. But one cold day in December, the wind bit the hope out of me. And that was when I realized we were trapped in an illusion, one that we called miraculous when really it was dangerous.
It took me too long to remember that peoples’ bloodstreams flowed with greed. And that they would do anything for power, for the things they believed in. If we didn’t know what was outside of our dusty haven but they knew we were inside…
“Nasima?”
Laurel’s voice cut through the air, the only person who I wanted to turn around to find. But when I saw her, a slow guilt crept up to my heart, and my throat filled with molten heat that melted each word I could say.
“You’re here to talk to Maska, aren’t you?”
I swallowed the awful feeling. “I have to.”
“The census just came out, Nasima—she’s probably really busy.”
I hesistated before shooting back, “This is the type of thing that’s more important than the census.”
Laurel’s jade green eyes darkened. “I thought you told me you’d listen—“
“I always listen.” The words were tinged with a sour anger. “But this is the type of thing worth fighting back for.”
“You’re on your own, Nasima.”
The words hit me like an ocean wave.
“You’re the only person wasting their time on this concern, and if you really want to storm in there and tell one of Esmerald’s busiest leaders all about how you’re paranoid about other people trying to hurt us, go ahead. But I’m not going to stand there and watch it happen.”
“I can’t take another sleepless night—“
“Then stop thinking about it.” Her eyes turned glassy as she turned towards the elevator. “I’m done.”
“I hope you remember to thank me one day.”
“Well, according to you—we’ll all be dead.”
“That’s not what I—“
The elevator door slammed itself shut before I could finish, and I spun away, hands clenched into fists.
Today is the day.
I pressed the guilt into my heart to let it unravel later as I started towards the obsidian door of Maska’s office. Worries pressed against my mind, but I brushed them away like annoying insects.
Once I reached the door, I silenced the echoes of Laurel’s voice in my head, and knocked.
“Come in,” a familiar raspy voice said, and I shoved open the heavy door. Maska’s office was clean, save for the messy desk that made my insides rattle with fear. A window reached out to the world of green grass and yellow skies, and I cleared my throat.
“I’m Nasima Amari, the leader of the yearly Hope Census, as you know.” I couldn’t help but shuffle my fingers. “I need to speak with you.”
“Is something going on with the Census?” Maska’s black eyes widened.
“No.”
She gestured towards a chair that matched the bloodred rugs, and I sat down. “I’d like to speak with you about… what’s outside of Esmerald. For the past eight years, we’ve been enveloped by the dusty haze and considered it our city limits.”
“Yes.” She looked out at the window with a sigh. “Does this have something to do with… your sister?”
“Wh—who told you about that?” I tried to bring my voice back from the teetering seesaw it stood on.
“Laurel Chastain made it a point to tell me that something like this could happen.” She must have seen something fiery flare in my eyes, because she backed up and added on, “She cares about you, Nasima, and that’s why she is worried.”
“Did she tell you why I’m here?”
“Something about fearing the apocalypse when we’ve already seen the worst of it. I’m sorry, I’m short of memory right now—“
“Perfect,” I interrupted. “I—sorry.”
“Go on.”
I took a breath. “This concern isn’t going to be addressed easily, nor is it something we can navigate smoothly. Any acknowledgement, or ignorance, of it could lead to disaster. But I need to speak to you about this.”
“Yes?”
“We are in danger.”
I almost watched Maska crack a smile. “Nasima. Eight years ago, we faced the greatest danger of a lifetime.”
I shuddered thinking about it.
“Can we get worse?”
“I didn’t think we could repeat the ignorant mistakes of the old days,” I declared. “But here we are, eight years later, and we haven’t bothered to look to the outside of Esmerald. Who knows what intruders could be meeting our walls at this very moment? We fill our citizens with fear of the unknown when really it’s our only guide and—“
“Nasima, calm down.” I could see the guilt in her eyes that had reached my heart earlier. “I… I’ve seen what’s outside.”
“You have?”
“Settle into your chair.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a piece of paper that matched the rusted yellow sky, dripping with strange clouds and coated with haze. “No one in Esmerald has seen what I’m about to show you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” She cleared her throat before stating sheepishly, “Judging from your troubles finding your sister, Suree—and your occasional impulse—I feared for what would happen if I showed it to you. But… you’re here now. And today is the day.”
949 WORDS

july 5th main cabin daily

Ah yes, proverbs. We all have in some way heard of these pieces of wisdom passed through short sentences. Today, we will be using them! For 400 points, write at least 300 words of a story that takes inspiration from a proverb

“This is what we’ve spent months searching for?” I leaned against the window and stared out into the swirling watercolor galaxy. “It doesn’t look like much.”
Freda’s copper eyes, flecked with black, flashed as she glared back at me. “It is. You just wouldn’t know.” She mumbled something under her breath that didn’t even sound like English–making me wonder again what her unspoken backstory was. I’d never bothered to press–she wasn’t the type to talk about that type of thing. And I knew she’d be far more reluctant to share if I asked her.
I peered at the dusty-looking planet. An old penny found after decades in a junk drawer–that’s what it looked like. Glints of orange life shone through its surface–I wondered if the rest was just unappealing clouds. And then I had to ask Freda a question:
“Are we going there?”
“Aquila.” She turned to me, the ship slowing down. “If you pulled up to the driveway of a house, would you not walk in?”
“Sounds like breaking and entering.”
“I hate those stupid laws.”
And I couldn’t help but think: If this dusty-coin planet is your idea of something beautiful, I don’t think your perception of the law is of much importance.
But I’d never say that. At least not to her face.
She orbited the planet more closely and, unlike the sharp descents to Earth I’d seen on television, drifted into the dust like a gliding bird. The sky looked a peachy hue tinged with brown–if I saw that on Earth, I would’ve run into the nearest building screaming. But the strange tint seemed to compliment Freda’s eyes, and her voice softened as she began to speak again.
“The bright, flashy colors of Earth always blinded me when I looked at them.” She sighed sadly. “And no one does anything to keep them intact. From above, Earth looks stunning–but too much corruption has blossomed inside of it to keep its beauty among the oceans and fields…” She trailed off. “I don’t know what I’m saying. Arcada, on the other hand, doesn’t look like much to someone like you, who’s used to those bright colors. And that’s nothing wrong with you, although I would appreciate it if, after today, you could tell your friends to open their minds a bit…”
“To what?”
“To this.”
I hadn’t even noticed when the ship plummeted to a flat surface. And somehow I hadn’t noticed the window changing color–because an entire universe of shocking shades had bloomed in the sky among the peachy dust. Pink and red and purple and orange. And though anyone from Earth would probably see the vibrant hues as “apocalyptic signs”, I couldn’t resist staring out the window.
Freda smiled.
That had rarely happened.
“It’s stunning, isn’t it? The way our star’s rays radiate through the dust… and create this spectacle of colors. I don’t think it’s sunset yet. I can see the star–it’s only around mid-afternoon. You should see those sunsets. I hope we’ll have time for them.”
“How can it get any more stunning than this?”
Freda laughed–a bit dry and raspy, but more happy than her sarcastic laughs. “I used to think, Aquila, that you were just some closed-minded teenager–”
“Oh, thanks.”
“But you’re much more open-minded than most. A long time ago, someone from far away came whizzing by our planet in search of life. I suspect they were from Earth–the colors of their spaceship and the way they just flew away reminded me of such a thing. If I tried to take any other girl your age–how old are you?”
“Fourteen.”
“If I brought any other fourteen-year-old girl to this planet, they wouldn’t even let me. Those people… even during the glowing sunsets, they didn’t think a planet like ours could have even a glint of life…”
The stupidity of all Earthians almost drowned me to the point that I couldn’t hear what she was saying. “Wait. You’re from here?”
“Ah, so you finally figured it out.” She offered a warm smile like the beautiful molten sky. “It’s not breaking and entering if I’m pulling up to my own home.”
688 WORDS

july 4th main cabin daily
do not hurt your eyes with this nonsense pls /lh

Have you ever seen a sentence that could be interpreted in two or more ways? That’s ambiguity. However, that's different from a sentence that just doesn't have the details necessary to understand it, which is vagueness. The difference between the two is what we will be focusing on today. Today, write two separate dialogues, the first one where a character is being vague, and the second where a character is being ambiguous.

Vagueness – 347 words
Mr. Lemonhill had always been skilled at spewing sentences that made no sense to his confused class. Even his fellow teachers couldn’t understand it—over the years, many assistant teachers had strolled into the room casually, offering help to Mr. Lemonhill’s bewildered students. But nothing ever changed.
“Algebra is just a matter of solving problems,” he lectured one day. Christi was sitting there in class, trying to dam the flood of snarky comments that she could throw at him. But her friend Carson got to it first: “Isn’t all math a matter of solving problems?”
“See, Carson, the special thing about algebra is that you have to find the exact number.”
“Okay, but if I was adding one plus two,” Carson fronted, “I would be finding an exact number, wouldn’t I?”
“Of course you would. But that’s when the numbers are given to you through an operation. In this case, what you’re finding is a value that has not been specified for you—“
“That’s literally what math is!”
“Carson, stop disrupting the class.”
“How about you actually teach the class first?” Christi mumbled, and Mr. Lemonhill spun her way. “Do you have something to say to us, Christi?”
“I’ve had a lot of things to say in this class over the years, but since I can’t even comprehend your explanations—“
“I’m enabling you to learn for yourself,” Mr. Lemonhill bellowed. “If you have a problem with my methods, you can leave this class and get a permanent mark.”
“On what?” Carson started. “My report card? Or maybe get
“The door is that way.”
“WHICH ONE?!” Christi and Carson chorused angrily, looking at where their teacher had motioned to three identical yellow doors. It was then that they realized one of those doors wasn’t completely closed.
Through the small crack, standing with a stack of pearly white papers, they saw the piercing glow of the lights reflecting on the superintendent’s glasses.
“Looks like someone’s about to get in trouble,” Mr. Lemonhill mumbled.
“Care to specify whom?” Christi tilted her head, and she and Carson exchanged a knowing glance.
Finally.

Ambiguity - 511 words
Ms. Woodwork had always been skilled with wordplay, even when she was an elementary-school art teacher whose desk was littered with unfinished stories. Whenever her students stood on their tiptoes and tried to peer at the loopy, flowing cursive, she’d tell them, “Stop trying to read into it.”
Being young, they wouldn’t understand her wordplay. And she’d sigh and wonder why she took the job in the first place, but would keep watching her students mess around with big markers and colorful construction paper, wishing for an organized room.
There was one fourth-grade girl in one of her classes who seemed to get it most of the time–but she wouldn’t be the type of teacher to choose favorites. So she’d stroll down the lane of desks, imagining herself in some faraway reality, and suddenly she felt like a child.
On the sunny Friday that changed everything, she’d seen a girl snipping her scissors so carefully that she’d fallen behind the rest of her classmates. “Cut it out,” she’d whispered jokingly, but the girl hadn’t seemed to understand the ambiguity, and picked up speed.
The boy next to her was taking out boxes tied up with ribbon, with supplies in them that would somehow make his perfect pieces even more beautiful. “You’ve got a lot of creative gifts,” she said with a wink.
“Yeah, I just got these for my birthday.”
“I meant–” She stopped herself from confusing the bewildered students, shaking more ideas out of her head.
He took out a paper with expert doodles all over it, of chaotic worlds sprawling with lots of different things–and she could’ve dreamt up an entire story in her mind right there. Her eyes began to drift closed, letting the world bloom like a vibrant flower in her eyes, as she whispered, “That’s a bit cluttered, isn’t it?”
He still looked confused as she blinked her eyes open–so she walked away, crossing her arms over her shirt covered in drawings of pencils. The students had always said it reminded them of her class, but she thought of other things.
“You would make a good English teacher, Ms. Woodwork,” a familiar voice chimed in from the back of the classroom.
At the desk sat a short young girl whose turquoise eyes glistened like a pure sea. She had never accepted help, and sat far away from the rest of her peers–Ms. Woodwork had called her an independent learner. And she actually understood it.
Emmalyn continued on with the speech, her eyes meeting her teacher’s without hesitation. “I’m serious. I always saw you as a writer.”
And Ms. Woodwork wasn’t sure whether she meant her personality–or the way she’d always been writing furiously away at papers, sitting at her desk.
Excellent wordplay.
“I believe that’s a compliment,” she said. “Thank you, Emmalyn.”
“Think about it,” the young girl said, which would have been strange for most teachers. But she knew this girl too well not to consider it.
She’s got a colorful personality, the teacher thought, thinking about the bright shimmering illusions drawn on her sheets.
858 WORDS

july 3rd main cabin daily

I didn't share today's since it got personal <3

july 2nd main cabin daily
warning it's post-apocalyptic sdlfkjnvxcn
why does everything have a warning so far? :'D

Remember when you used to ask questions to a Magic 8 Ball? Here’s a project in which you can do that! https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/710721692/ Today, ask the ball a plot-related question, which will be related to your prompt. The outcome will then influence what happens in the story.

“Is there life outside the main character's town?” “REPLY HAZY TRY AGAIN”

Holding the list made it real.
Things that had been shoved below the tempests in my mind, deep into the rumbling rhythm of the sea.
Another year has gone by without finding Suree.
I knew it was impossible. Every year seemed to pose its own challenge, the universe creating unbreakable traps around Esmerald each time we cheered our songs of hope on the first of January, which I knew would be dangerously soon.
Like every year, a tiny trap door opened in my heart and that warm fizzy hope spilled out, leaving only a few droplets in what now felt hollow.
“Nasima,” Laurel whispered beside me, “would you prefer if I finished?”
I shook my head defiantly, peering out at the crowd standing among the tiny green shoots. The miraculous town of Esmerald looked drained, the brown balls of brush dancing in from the desert outside. But I knew it was the only life for miles–forever.
Esmerald was the only town left on Earth, unless, somewhere, another village of foolish daydreamers with hope was out searching for us. But for now, I was one of the leaders of a new world, a tiny chartreuse green plant facing a brutal winter storm.
“The population count of 1780 lucky survivors has increased since the last Hope Census, and we are so overjoyed that you’ve revealed your presences and joined us in, hopefully, defeating the challenges that we face and restarting our world. I urge each and every confused, scared child standing among these sprouts to see what happened eight years ago–” a moment of suffocating silence swirled around us, as if to show us how lucky we were to have become the survivors– “as not an apocalypse, but maybe, among unfortunate circumstances, a new beginning.”
The crowd erupted in raspy cheers, and Laurel joined in–even if I hadn’t been standing next to her, I knew she would have been the loudest voice in the crowd. Because she wanted Suree to hear us. She didn’t know her, but she knew me.
But Laurel already had someone–an older brother–and I wouldn’t let myself stay at her house. It was assimilation–it was becoming part of a new family. It was leaving the past behind.
Tears spilled out from the bunkers they’d been hiding in–the black eyes that Suree and I shared–and I followed Laurel and the rest of the Esmerald leaders offstage, keeping my head held high enough that they wouldn’t try to peer at my face.
Suree may not have been as lucky. But… she’s smart and she could be out there somewhere. Maybe even just outside of those hazy walls.
And the dreadful thought that had been prickling the back of my mind finally stabbed through me like a thorn.
Esmerald is a trap.
We’d called it a haven, a miraculous town that sprouted in darkness. But truly, we were trapped.
Laurel’s crimson hair swished in the faintest of the sunlight as she turned to face me, and as soon as her glistening, frozen blue eyes met mine, the words were choked out from the dusty clouds of my mind.
“We’re trapped here.”
She glanced down at her worn-out shoes. “I know,” she finally said. “I’ve been thinking of it too.”
“Do you think everyone knows?”
She buried her face in her hands, and for a second I wondered if she shared her eyes with her family–the type that would melt like glaciers into flowing tears if I said something wrong.
“I don’t know how to answer that.”
I turned to the haze that coated Esmerald. Once, I’d thought of it as a protection. But as I watched the amber swirls dance like the ocean waves Suree and I once loved to splash one another with as children, I wanted to break them down.
Maybe there was a way.
I took a long look at my friend.
If I became lost in what looked like an endless sea of amber, I’d never see Laurel again.
I fingered the fraying bracelet on my arm. Once fresh peach orange, Suree’s favorite color, and blue tinged with lavender, my favorite, it had faded to stripes of cream and periwinkle. But it was the last scrap of our old lives, the rest torn up in some storm that Esmerald was supposed to protect us from.
Esmerald couldn’t protect me from the storm of feelings in my mind.
“I’m going, Laurel.”
She grasped my hand and stared at me before looking out at the haze. I expected her to pull me back–or push me away–but instead she told me, “Then I’m going with you.”
“What about your brother?”
Laurel didn’t say a word. I could see the glaciers start to melt before we turned away from the field and locked hands tightly.
The first wisps of the haze reached us like cirrus clouds painted with gold.
“Are you sure?”
“I want to help you find your sister, Nasima.” Her voice was quiet, maybe in the rush of the wind. “I want to meet her.”
“You realize…” More tears escaped from their obsidian gates. “I don’t know if she’s alive.”
“She will be.”
“There’s no way you can know that.”
She stopped me in the sandy rush of the haze, her eyes determined and the glaciers now hard as stone. “Nasima, I know more than you think I do.”
890 WORDS

july 1st main cabin daily: introduction <3

warning: all caps abound :')
hi I’m arli! I use she/her pronouns,
and I’m extremely honored to be leading the poetry cabin this session alongside the most amazing cos ever, cami and sparrow, and the world’s snazziest honorary, jade <3

anyways, I’m an overexcited enfj-t arianator who enjoys being part of chaotic things. I’ve also been writing since I was 4 years old (haha mortals no one shall know my age > /j /lh), which means swc is pretty much perfect for me. I have taken part in five sessions:

• Non-Fi March 2021, led by @SportyGirly49, @PandasCodingGames, and @milkywaves. starting on a high note!
  

• Dystopian Desert July 2021, led by @Stariqe, @sea-doodles, and @cherrybeanie. PINEAPPAIN (dystopain x pineappain) FOREVER <333
  

• THRILLEE DECTIVE AHENVY (NOT thriller detective agency /j /lh) November 2021, led by @Rey_venclaw, @Luna-Lovegood-LOL, and @Starrial.
  

• in March 2022 I had the honor to be your obedient~~ CO-LEAD I SAID CO-LEAD the real-fire cabin alongside @-faerylights and @scariet-stars.
  

• and finally, I’ve been chosen to lead the poetry mountain lodge this session. I made very good co choices /lh @hamilchaos and @Spire-, they are extremely amazing humans. we also have jade the god of mischief @seasiide on our side. (*summons eagle* /ij) <33333

aside from swc, there’s probably some more stuff you deserve to know about me. I am one of many hamilton-obsessed swc participants and you’ll probably find me screaming about phillipa soo’s amazingness every hour or so /mj (seriously though she’s amazing, and i need help).

writing is the absolute best but I also enjoy drawing (traditional and digital, failing equally in both <3), chatting with my best friends (irl and online~ you know who you are! ^^) singing (I do choir), using parentheses (parentheses), and reading (I’m currently reading keeper of the lost cities as per a recommendation from my best friend and it’s very amazing. I’m a little bit scared for what’s in store in legacy though).

dystopian is my favorite genre… now tied with poetry realistic fiction is also amazing (as is realistic firection) (REALISTIC FRICTION??), and i don’t mind science fiction either. really, i don’t mind any genre, except that i can’t write in some of them. /lh

I’ve been on scratch since november 2019 and actively using it since april 2020. this camp, tied with my epic scratch friends from outside of swc, is probably the best experience I’ve had on the entire website. every march, july, and november~ no, long before that, for swc does not have an off season I get active again and I get to see this lovely community. I’d probably have gone inactive in the recent months if it wasn’t for all of you. the combination of chaos and writing, as I said previously, is the best thing EVER. so many chaotic inside jokes and wonderful people. <33333

it has finally come time for the best session ever! poetry domination time <3 /lh

p.s. (phillipa soo, NOT post script /j /ij i guess) I'm a capricorn and that's definitely important~
471 WORDS

ᵛᵉʳᵃ'ˢ ᵈᵃᶦˡʸ ⁻ ⁷/¹/²²

word count: 322

'Ello! It's me, Vera! I'm 11 years old and I use she/her pronouns. It's my first time in SWC and boy, am I excited! My writing goal for this month is 7,000 words but I'm feeling like I might go over that number, you know what I mean? My timezone is EDT and I live in “the land of opportunity”: America! I am Chinese-American and I have dark brown hair that reaches a bit past my shoulders. Apparently I have “intensely” dark brown eyes, and I have caramel-colored skin. (I think?) I am OBSESSED (I repeat, OBSESSED) with writing, reading, singing, listening to music and podcasts, and of course, my two adorable cats, Tiger and Marlo. I play the violin and am trying to self-teach myself how to play piano and that's going pretty well. I enjoy the outdoors oh-so-much, and I also really like to bake and cook. My favorite thing to bake is my homemade lemon cake with lemon cream cheese frosting and a scrumptious raspberry that really completes the cake. My favorite books are Harry Potter by Joanne Kathleen Rowling, though you may know her as J.K Rowling, the Apothecary series by Maile Meloy, and The Land of Stories series by Chris Colfer. My favorite season is fall because of the beautiful, colorful leaves falling from the trees while shafts of sunlight peak through the branches. My favorite weather is warm and sunny, with a cool breeze. My favorite board game is Avalon, a game of trickery and deception. I have one brother, hegson. I love to watch my brother play video games, but not play them myself (I'm hopeless at Mario Kart). Thank you so, so much for the opportunity to be part of SWC! I hope you all have a great summer, and keep writing!